f^ 

fj>  V,, 


THE  MARDI  GRAS 
MYSTERY 


BOOKS  BY 
H.  BEDFORD-JONES 

CONQUEST 

CROSS  AND  THE  HAMMER:   A 

TALE  OF  THE  DATS  OF  THE 

VIKINGS 
FLAMEHAIR  THE  SKALD:     A 

TALE   OF  THE    DAYS    OF 

HARDREDE 
GOLDEN  GHOST 
THE  MESA  TRAIL 
THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 
UNDER  FIRE 


"'  You  frightened  we,  holy  man! 'she  cried  gaily.     '  Confess 
to  you ,  indeed!     Not  /."' 


THE  MARDI  GRAS 
MYSTERY 

BY 

H.  BEDFORD-JONES 


FRONTISPIECE 

BY 
JOHN   NEWTON    HOWITT 


GARDEN   CITY,    N.  Y.,   AND   TORONTO 

DOUBLEDAY,  PAGE  &  COMPANY 
1921 


COPYRIGHT,  1920,  1921,  BY 
DOUBLEDAY,  PAGE  &  COMPANY 

ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED,  INCLUDING  THAT  OF  TRANSLATION 
INTO  FOREIGN  LANGUAGES,  INCLUDING  THE  SCANDINAVIAN 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  CARNIVAL 3 

II.  MASQUERS 21 

III.  THE  BANDIT 38 

IV.  CALLERS 58 

V.    THE  MASQUER  UNMASKS 82 

VI.    CHACHERRE 107 

VII.    IN  THE  OPEN 125 

VIII.    COMUS 143 

IX.    ON  THE  BAYOU 169 

X.    MURDER 190 

XI.    THE  GANGSTERS 209 

XII.    THE  ULTIMATUM 228 

XIII.  THE  COIN  FALLS  HEADS 249 

XIV.  CHACHERRE'S  BUNDLE 262 

XV.  WHEN  THE  HEAVENS  FALL     ....  280 

XVI.  THE  IMPREGNABILITY  OF  MR.  FELL  .     .  299 

XVII.  MI-CAREME  310 


2134570 


THE  MARDI  GRAS 
MYSTERY 


THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

CHAPTER  I 

Carnival 

JACHIN  FELL  pushed  aside  the  glass 
curtains  between  the  voluminous  over- 
draperies  in  the  windows  of  the  Chess 
and  Checkers  Club,  and  gazed  out  upon  the 
riotous  streets  of  New  Orleans.  Half  an  hour 
he  had  been  waiting  here  in  the  lounge  room 
for  Dr.  Cyril  Ansley,  a  middle-aged  bach- 
elor who  had  practised  in  Opelousas  for 
twenty  years,  and  who  had  come  to  the  city 
for  the  Mardi  Gras  festivities.  Another  man 
might  have  seemed  irritated  by  the  wait,  but 
Jachin  Fell  was  quite  unruffled. 

He  had  much  the  air  of  a  clerk.  His  feat- 
ures were  thin  and  unremarkable;  his  pale 
eyes  constantly  wore  an  expression  of  won- 
dering aloofness,  as  though  he  saw  around 
him  much  that  he  vainly  tried  to  understand. 
In  his  entire  manner  was  a  shy  reticence.  He 

3 


4       THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

was  no  clerk,  however,  this  was  evident  from 
his  attire.  He  was  garbed  from  head  to 
foot  in  soberly  blending  shades  of  gray  whose 
richness  was  notable  only  at  close  view.  One 
fancied  him  a  very  precise  sort  of  man,  an 
old  maid  of  the  wrong  sex. 

Doctor  Ansley,  an  Iverness  flung  over  his 
evening  clothes,  entered  the  lounge  room,  and 
Fell  turned  to  him  with  a  dry,  toneless 
chuckle. 

"You're  the  limit!  Did  you  forget  we 
were  going  to  the  Maillards'  to-night?" 

Ansley  appeared  vexed  and  irritated. 
"Confound  it,  Fell!"  he  exclaimed.  "I've 
been  all  over  town  looking  for  El  Keys. 
Caught  in  a  crowd — no  El  Keys  yet!" 

Again  Fell  uttered  his  toneless  chuckle. 
His  voice  was  absolutely  level,  unmarked  by 
any  change  of  inflection. 

"My  dear  fellow,  there  are  only  three 
places  in  the  city  that  can  afford  to  carry 
El  Keys  in  these  parlous  times!  This  club, 
however,  happens  to  be  one  of  the  three. 
Here,  sit  down  and  forget  your  troubles  over 
a  real  smoke!  We  need  not  leave  for  fifteen 
minutes  yet,  at  least." 

Doctor  Ansley  laid  aside  his  cape,  stick, 


CARNIVAL  5 

and  hat,  and  dropped  into  one  of  the  com- 
fortable big  chairs.  He  accepted  the  prof- 
fered cigar  with  a  sigh.  Across  his  knees  he 
laid  an  evening  paper,  whose  flaring  head- 
lines proclaimed  an  extra. 

"I  suppose  you've  been  gadding  all  around 
the  town  ever  since  the  Revellers  opened  the 
season?"  he  inquired. 

" Hardly,"  said  Fell  with  his  shy  air.  "I'm 
growing  a  bit  stiff  with  age,  as  Eliza  said 
when  she  crossed  the  ice.  I  don't  gad  much." 

"You  intend  to  mask  for  the  Maillards'?" 
Ansley  cast  his  eye  over  the  gray  business 
attire  of  the  little  man. 

"I  never  mask."  Jachin  Fell  shook  his 
head.  "I'll  get  a  domino  and  go  as  I  am. 
Excuse  me — I'll  order  a  domino  now,  and 
also  provide  a  few  more  El  Reys  for  the  even- 
ing. Back  in  a  moment." 

Doctor  Ansley,  who  was  himself  a  non- 
resident member  of  the  club  and  socially 
prominent  when  he  could  grant  himself 
leisure  for  society,  followed  the  slight  figure 
of  the  other  man  with  speculative  eyes. 
Well  as  he  knew  Jachin  Fell,  he  invariably 
found  the  man  a  source  of  puzzled  specula- 
tion. 


6       THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

During  many  years  Jachin  Fell  had  been  a 
member  of  the  most  exclusive  New  Orleans 
clubs.  He  was  even  received  in  the  inner 
circles  of  Creole  society,  which  in  itself  was 
evidence  supreme  as  to  his  position.  At  this 
particular  club  he  was  famed  as  a  wizard 
master  of  chess.  He  never  entered  a  tourna- 
ment, yet  he  consistently  defeated  the  cham- 
pions in  private  matches — defeated  them 
with  a  bewildering  ease,  a  shy  and  apologetic 
ease,  an  ease  which  left  the  beholders  in- 
credulous and  aghast. 

With  all  this,  Jachin  Fell  was  very  much  of 
a  mystery,  even  among  his  closest  friends. 
Very  little  was  known  of  him;  he  was  incon- 
spicuous to  a  degree,  and  it  was  usually  as- 
sumed that  he  was  something  of  a  recluse, 
the  result  of  a  thwarted  love  affair  in  his 
youth.  He  was  a  lawyer,  and  certainly 
maintained  offices  in  the  Maison  Blanche 
building,  but  he  never  appeared  in  the  courts 
and  no  case  of  his  pleading  was  known. 

It  was  said  that  he  lived  in  the  rebuilt  casa 
of  some  old  Spanish  grandee  in  the  Vieux 
Carre,  and  that  this  residence  of  his  was  a 
veritable  treasure-trove  of  historic  and  beau- 
tiful things.  This  was  mere  rumour,  adding  a 


CARNIVAL  7 

spice  of  romance  to  the  general  mystery. 
Ansley  knew  him  as  well  as  did  most  men, 
and  Ansley  knew  of  a  few  who  could  boast 
of  having  been  a  guest  in  Jachin  Fell's  home. 
There  was  a  mother,  an  invalid  of  whom 
Fell  sometimes  spoke  and  to  whom  he  ap- 
peared to  devote  himself.  The  family,  an 
old  one  in  the  city,  promised  to  die  out  with 
Jachin  Fell. 

Ansley  puffed  at  his  cigar  and  considered 
these  things.  Outside,  in  the  New  Orleans 
streets,  was  rocketing  the  mad  mirth  of  car- 
nival. The  week  preceding  Mardi  Gras  was 
at  its  close.  Since  the  beginning  of  the  new 
year  the  festival  had  been  celebrated  in  a 
steadily  climaxing  series  of  balls  and  enter- 
tainments, largely  by  the  older  families  who 
kept  to  the  old  customs,  and  to  a  smaller 
extent  by  society  at  large.  Now  the  final 
week  was  at  hand,  or  rather  the  final  three 
days — the  period  of  the  great  balls,  the 
period  when  tourists  were  flooding  into  town; 
for  tourists,  the  whole  tune  of  Mardi  Gras  was 
comprised  within  these  three  days.  Despite 
agonized  predictions,  prohibition  had  not  ad- 
versely affected  Mardi  Gras  or  the  gaiety  of 
its  celebration. 


8       THE  MARD1  GRAS  MYSTERY 

Now,  as  ever,  was  Mardi  Gras  symbolized 
by  masques.  In  New  Orleans  the  masquerade 
was  not  the  pale  and  pitiful  frolic  of  colder 
climes,  where  the  occasion  is  but  one  for 
display  of  jewels  and  costumes,  and  where 
actual  concealment  of  identity  is  a  farce. 
Here  in  New  Orleans  were  jewels  and  cos- 
tumes in  a  profusion  of  splendour;  but  here 
was  preserved  the  underlying  idea  of  the 
masque  itself — that  in  concealment  of  iden- 
tity lay  the  life  of  the  thing!  Masquers 
swept  the  streets  gaily;  if  harlequin  husband 
flirted  with  domino  wife — why,  so  much  the 
merrier!  There  was  little  harm  in  the  Latin 
masque,  and  great  mirth. 

When  Jachin  Fell  returned  and  lighted  his 
cigar  he  sank  into  one  of  the  luxurious  chairs 
beside  Ansley  and  indicated  the  news- 
paper lying  across  the  latter's  knee,  its 
flaring  headlines  standing  out  blackly. 

"What's  that  about  the  Midnight  Mas- 
quer? He's  not  appeared  again?" 

"What?"  Ansley  glanced  at  him  in  sur- 
prise. ' '  You ' ve  not  heard  ? ' ' 

Fell  shook  his  head.  "I  seldom  read  the 
papers." 

"Good  heavens,  man!    He  showed  up  last 


CARNIVAL  9 

night  at  the  Lapeyrouse  dance,  two  minutes 
before  midnight,  as  usual!  A  detective  had 
been  engaged,  but  was  afterward  found 
locked  in  a  closet,  bound  with  his  own  hand- 
cuffs. The  Masquer  wore  his  usual  costume 
— and  went  through  the  party  famously, 
stripping  everyone  in  sight.  Then  he  backed 
through  the  doors  and  vanished.  How  he 
got  in  they  can't  imagine;  where  he  went 
they  can't  imagine,  unless  it  was  by  airplane. 
He  simply  appeared,  then  vanished!" 

Fell  settled  deeper  into  his  chair,  pointed 
his  cigar  at  the  ceiling,  and  sighed. 

"Ah,  most  interesting!  The  loot  was 
valued  at  about  a  hundred  thousand?" 

"I  thought  you  said  you'd  not  heard  of  it?" 
demanded  Ansley. 

Fell  laughed  softly  and  shyly.  "I  didn't. 
I  merely  hazarded  a  guess." 

"Wizard!"  The  doctor  laughed  in  unison. 
"Yes,  about  that  amount.  Exaggerated,  of 
course;  still,  there  were  jewels  of  great 
value " 

"The  Masquer  is  a  piker,"  observed  Fell, 
in  his  toneless  voice. 

"Eh?  A  piker — when  he  can  make  a 
hundred-thousand-dollar  haul?  " 


10     THE  MARD1  GRAS  MYSTERY 

"Don't  dream  that  those  figures  represent 
value,  Doctor.  They  don't !  All  the  loot  the 
Masquer  has  taken  since  he  began  work  is 
worth  little  to  him.  Jewels  are  hard  to  sell. 
This  game  of  banditry  is  romantic,  but  it's 
out  of  date  these  days.  Of  course,  the  crook 
has  obtained  a  bit  of  money,  but  not  enough  to 
be  worth  the  risk." 

"Yet  he  has  got  quite  a  bit,"  returned 
Ansley,  thoughtfully.  "All  the  men  have 
money,  naturally;  we  don't  want  to  find 
ourselves  bare  at  some  gay  carnival  moment ! 
I'll  warrant  you've  a  hundred  or  so  in  your 
pocket  right  now!" 

"Not  I,"  rejoined  Fell,  calmly.  "One  ten- 
dollar  bill.  Also  I  left  my  watch  at  home. 
And  I'm  not  dressed;  I  don't  care  to  lose  my 
pearl  studs." 

"Eh?"  Ansley  frowned.  "What  do  you 
mean?" 

Jachin  Fell  took  a  folded  paper  from  his 
pocket  and  handed  it  to  the  physician. 

"I  met  Maillard  at  the  bank  this  morning. 
He  called  me  into  his  office  and  handed  me 
this — he  had  just  received  it  in  the  mail." 

Doctor  Ansley  opened  the  folded  paper; 
an  exclamation  broke  from  him  as  he  read 


CARNIVAL  11 

the  note,  which  was  addressed  to  their  host 
of  the  evening. 

JOSEPH  MAILLARD,  President, 

Exeter  National  Bank,  City. 

I  thank  you  for  the  masque  you  are  giving  to-night. 
I  shall  be  present.  Please  see  that  Mrs.  M.  wears  her 
diamonds — I  need  them. 

THE  MIDNIGHT  MASQUER. 

Ansley  glanced  up.  "What's  this — some 
hoax?  Some  carnival  jest?" 

"Maillard  pretended  to  think  so."  Fell 
shrugged  his  shoulders  as  he  repocketed  the 
note.  "But  he  was  nervous.  He  was  afraid 
of  being  laughed  at,  and  wouldn't  go  to  the 
police.  But  he'll  have  a  brace  of  detectives 
inside  the  house  to-night,  and  others  outside." 

Ever  since  the  first  ball  of  the  year  by  the 
Twelfth  Night  Club  this  Midnight  Masquer, 
as  he  was  termed,  had  held  New  Orleans 
gripped  in  terror,  fascination,  and  vivid 
interest.  Until  a  month  previous  to  this 
week  of  Mardi  Gras  he  had  operated  rarely; 
he  had  robbed  with  a  stark  and  inelegant 
forcefulness,  a  brutality.  Suddenly  his  meth- 
ods changed — he  appeared  and  transacted  his 
business  with  a  romantic  courtesy,  a  daredevil 


12     THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

gaiety;  his  robberies  became  bizarre  and  ex- 
traordinary. 

During  the  past  month  he  appeared  at 
least  once  a  week,  now  at  some  private  ball, 
now  at  some  restaurant  banquet,  but  always 
in  the  same  garb:  the  helmet,  huge  goggles 
and  mask,  and  leathern  clothes  of  a  service 
aviator.  On  these  occasions  the  throbbing 
roar  of  an  airplane  motor  had  been  reported 
so  that  it  was  popular  gossip  that  he  landed 
on  the  roof  of  his  designated  victims  and  made 
his  getaway  in  the  same  manner — by  airplane. 
No  machine  had  ever  been  seen,  and  the  theory 
was  believed  by  some,  hooted  at  by  others. 

The  police  were  helpless.  The  Midnight 
Masquer  laughed  openly  at  them  and  con- 
ducted his  depredations  with  brazen  uncon- 
cern, appearing  where  he  was  least  expected. 
The  anti-administration  papers  were  clamour- 
ing about  a  "crime  wave"  and  "organization 
of  crooks,"  but  without  any  visible  basis  for 
such  clamours.  The  Midnight  Masquer 
worked  alone. 

Doctor  Ansley  glanced  at  his  watch,  and 
deposited  his  cigar  in  an  ash  tray. 

"We'd  best  be  moving,  Fell.  You'll  want 
a  domino?" 


CARNIVAL  13 

"I  ordered  one  when  I  got  my  cigars.  It'll 
be  here  in  a  minute." 

"Do  you  seriously  think  that  note  is  gen- 
uine?" 

Fell  shrugged  lightly.  "Who  knows?  I'm 
not  worried.  Maillard  can  afford  to  be 
robbed.  It  will  be  interesting  to  see  how 
he  takes  it  if  the  fellow  does  show  up." 

"You're  a  calm  one!"  Ansley  chuckled. 
"Oh,  I  believe  the  prince  is  to  be  there  to- 
night. You've  met  him,  I  suppose?" 

"No.  I've  had  a  rush  of  business  lately, 
as  Eliza  said  when  she  crossed  the  ice:  haven't 
gone  out  much.  Heard  something  about  him, 
though.  An  American,  isn't  he?  They  say 
he's  become  quite  popular  in  town." 

Ansley  nodded.  "Quite  a  fine  chap.  His 
mother  was  an  American — she  married  the 
Prince  de  Gramont;  an  international  affair 
of  the  past  generation.  De  Gramont  led  her 
a  dog's  life,  I  hear,  until  he  was  killed  in  a  duel. 
She  lived  in  Paris  with  the  boy,  sent  him  to 
school  here  at  home,  and  he  was  at  Yale 
when  the  war  broke.  He  was  technically  a 
French  subject,  so  he  went  back  to  serve  his 
time. 

"Still,  he's  an  American  now.     Calls  him- 


14     THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

self  Henry  Gramont,  and  would  drop  the 
prince  stuff  altogether  if  these  French  people 
around  here  would  let  him.  He's  supposed  to 
be  going  into  some  kind  of  business,  but  just 
now  he's  having  the  time  of  his  life.  Every 
old  dowager  is  trying  to  catch  him." 

Jachin  Fell  nodded.  "I've  no  use  for 
nobility;  a  rotten  crowd!  But  this  chap 
appears  interesting.  I'll  be  glad  to  size  him 
up.  Ah,  here's  my  domino  now!" 

A  page  brought  the  domino.  Fell,  dis- 
carding the  mask,  threw  the  domino  about 
his  shoulders,  and  the  two  men  left  the  club 
in  company. 

They  sought  their  destination  afoot — the 
home  of  the  banker  Joseph  Maillard.  The 
streets  were  riotous,  filled  with  an  eddying, 
laughing  crowd  of  masquers  and  merry- 
makers of  all  ages  and  sexes;  confetti  twirled 
through  the  air,  horns  were  deafening,  and 
laughing  voices  rose  into  sharp  screams  of 
unrestrained  delight. 

Here  and  there  appeared  the  rather  con- 
strained figures  of  tourists  from  the  North. 
These,  staid  and  unable  to  throw  themselves 
into  the  utter  abandon  of  this  carnival  spirit, 
could  but  stare  in  perplexed  wonder  at  the 


CARNIVAL  15 

scene,  so  alien  to  them,  while  they  marvelled 
at  the  gaiety  of  these  Southern  folk  who 
could  go  so  far  with  liberty  and  yet  not  over- 
step the  bounds  of  license. 

At  last  gaining  St.  Charles  Avenue,  with  the 
Maillard  residence  a  half-dozen  blocks  distant, 
the  two  companions  found  themselves  well 
away  from  the  main  carnival  throngs.  Even 
here,  however,  was  no  lack  of  revellers  afoot 
for  the  evening — stray  flotsam  of  the  down- 
town crowds,  or  members  of  neighbourhood 
gatherings  on  their  way  to  entertainment. 

As  the  two  walked  along  they  were  sud- 
denly aware  of  a  lithe  figure  approaching  from 
the  rear;  with  a  running  leap  and  an  ex- 
clamation of  delight  the  figure  forced  itself 
in  between  them,  grasping  an  arm  of  either 
man,  and  a  bantering  voice  broke  in  upon 
their  train  of  talk. 

"Forfeit!"  it  cried.  "Forfeit — where  are 
your  masks,  sober  gentlemen?  This  grave 
physician  may  be  pardoned,  but  not  a  domino 
who  refuses  to  mask!  And  for  forfeit  you 
shall  be  my  escort  and  take  me  whither  you 
are  going." 

Laughing,  the  two  fell  into  step,  glancing 
at  the  gay  figure  between  them.  A  Colum- 


16     THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

bine,  she  was  both  cloaked  and  masked. 
Encircling  her  hair  was  a  magnificent  scarf 
shot  with  metal  designs  of  solid  gold — a 
most  unusual  thing.  Also,  from  her  words 
it  was  evident  that  she  had  recognized  them. 

"Willingly,  fair  Columbine,"  responded  Fell 
in  his  dry  and  unimpassioned  tone  of  voice. 
"We  shall  be  most  happy,  indeed,  to  protect 
and  take  you  with  us — 

"So  far  as  the  door,  at  least,"  interrupted 
Ansley,  with  evident  caution.  But  Fell  drily 
laughed  aside  this  wary  limitation. 

"Nay,  good  physician,  farther!"  went  on 
Fell.  "Our  Columbine  has  an  excellent  pass- 
port, I  assure  you.  This  gauzy  scarf  about 
her  raven  tresses  was  woven  for  the  good 
Queen  Hortense,  and  I  would  venture  a 
random  guess  that,  clasped  about  her  slen- 
der throat,  lies  the  queen's  collar  of  star 
sapphires — 

"Oh!"  From  the  Columbine  broke  a  cry 
of  warning  and  swift  dismay.  "Don't  you 
dare  speak  my  name,  sir — don't  you  dare!" 

Fell  assented  with  a  chuckle,  and  subsided. 

Ansley  regarded  his  two  companions  with 
sidelong  curiosity.  He  could  not  recognize 
Columbine,  and  he  could  not  tell  whether 


CARNIVAL  17 

Fell  were  speaking  of  the  scarf  and  jewels  in 
jest  or  earnest.  Such  historic  things  were 
not  uncommon  in  New  Orleans,  yet  Ansley 
never  heard  of  these  particular  treasures. 
However,  it  seemed  that  Fell  knew  their  com- 
panion, and  accepted  her  as  a  fellow  guest  at 
the  Maillard  house. 

"What  are  you  doing  out  on  the  streets 
alone?"  demanded  Fell,  suddenly.  "Haven't 
you  any  friends  or  relatives  to  take  care  of 
you?" 

Columbine's  laughter  pealed  out,  and  she 
pressed  Fell's  arm  confidingly. 

"Have  I  not  some  little  rights  in  the  world, 
monsieur?"  she  said  in  French.  "I  have 
been  mingling  with  the  dear  crowds  and  en- 
joying them,  before  I  go  to  be  buried  in  the 
dull  splendours  of  the  rich  man's  house. 
Tell  me,  do  you  think  that  the  Midnight 
Masquer  will  make  an  appearance  to-night?" 

"I  have  every  reason  to  believe  that  he 
will,"  said  Jachin  Fell,  gravely. 

Columbine  put  one  hand  to  her  throat, 
and  shivered  a  trifle. 

"You — you  really  think  so?  You  are  not 
trying  to  frighten  me?"  Her  voice  was  no 
longer  gay.  "But — the  jewels " 


18     THE  MARD1  GRAS  MYSTERY 

"Wear  them,  wear  them!"  There  was 
'command  in  the  tone  of  Fell.  "Were  they 
not  given  you  to  wear  to-night?  Then  wear 
them,  by  all  means.  Don't  worry,  my  dear." 

Columbine  said  nothing  for  a  moment;  her 
gaiety  seemed  to  be  suddenly  extinguished 
and  quenched.  Ansley  was  wondering  un- 
easily at  the  constraint,  when  at  length  she 
broke  the  silence. 

"Since  you  have  ordered,  let  the  command 
be  obeyed!"  She  essayed  a  laugh,  which  ap- 
peared rather  forced.  "Yet,  if  they  are  lost 
and  are  taken  by  the  Masquer " 

"In  that  case,"  said  Fell,  "let  the  blame 
be  mine  entirely.  If  they  are  lost,  little 
Columbine,  others  will  be  lost  with  them, 
fear  not!  I  think  that  this  party  would  be 
a  rich  haul  for  the  Masquer,  eh?  Take  the 
rich  man  and  his  friends — they  could  bear 
plucking,  that  crowd!  Rogues  all." 

"Confound  you,  Fell!"  exclaimed  Ansley, 
uneasily.  "If  the  bandit  does  show  up 
there  would  be  the  very  devil  to  pay!" 

"And  Maillard  would  do  the  paying." 
Fell's  dry  chuckle  held  a  note  of  bitterness. 
"Let  him.  Who  cares?  Look  at  his  house, 
there,  blazing  with  lights.  Who  pays  for 


CARNIVAL  19 

those  lights?  The  people  his  financial  ten- 
tacles have  closed  their  sucker-like  grip  upon. 
His  wife's  jewels  have  been  purchased  with 
the  coin  of  oppression  and  injustice.  His 
son's  life  is  one  of  roguery  and  drunken 
wildness — 

"Man,  are  you  mad?"  Ansley  indicated  the 
Columbine  between  them.  "We're  not  alone 
here — you  must  not  talk  that  way " 

Jachin  Fell  only  chuckled  again.  Colum- 
bine's laugh  broke  in  with  renewed  gaiety: 

"Nonsense,  my  dear  Galen!  We  surely 
may  be  allowed  to  be  ourselves  during  carni- 
val! Away  with  the  heresies  of  hypo- 
critical society.  Our  friend  speaks  the  sober 
truth.  We  masquers  may  admit  among  our- 
selves that  Bob  Maillard  is— 

"Is  not  the  man  we  would  have  our  daugh- 
ters marry,  provided  we  had  daughters," 
said  Fell.  Then  he  gestured  toward  the 
house  ahead  of  them,  and  his  tone  changed: 
"Still,  now  that  we  are  about  to  enter  that 
house,  we  must  remind  ourselves  of  courtesy 
and  the  limitations  of  guests.  Say  no  more. 
Produce  your  invitation,  Columbine,  for  I 
think  we  shall  find  that  the  doors  to-night 
are  guarded  by  Cerberus." 


20     THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

They  had  come  to  a  file  of  limousines  and 
cars,  and  approached  the  gateway  of  the 
Maillard  home.  They  turned  into  the  gate. 

The  house  loomed  before  them,  a  great 
house  set  amid  gardens,  stately  in  the  fashion 
of  olden  days.  The  lower  floors  were  dis- 
creetly darkened  to  the  streets,  but  on  the 
upper  floor,  where  was  the  ballroom  with 
its  floor  of  cypress,  there  was  a  glitter  of 
bright  lights  and  open  windows.  Music 
drifted  to  them  as  they  approached.  Jacbin 
Fell  touched  the  arm  of  Ansley  and  indicated 
an  inconspicuous  figure  to  one  side  of  the 
entrance  steps. 

"An  outer  guardian,"  he  murmured.  "Our 
host,  it  seems,  is  neglecting  no  precaution! 
I  feel  sorry  for  the  Masquer,  if  he  appears 
here." 

They  came  to  the  doorway.  Columbine 
produced  an  invitation,  duly  numbered,  and 
the  three  entered  the  house  together. 


CHAPTER  II 

Masquers 

JOSEPH  MAILLARD  might  have  hope- 
fully considered  the  note  from  the  Mid- 
night Masquer  to  be  a  hoax  perpetrated 
by  some  of  his  friends,  but  he  took  no  chances. 
Two  detectives  were  posted  in  the  grounds  out- 
side the  house;  inside,  two  others,  masked 
and   costumed,  were  keeping  a   quietly  effi- 
cient eye  on  all  that  transpired. 

Each  guest  upon  entering  was  conducted 
directly  to  the  presence  of  Joseph  Maillard 
himself,  or  of  his  wife;  was  bidden  to  un- 
mask in  this  private  audience,  and  was  then 
presented  with  a  favour  and  sent  forth  masked 
anew  to  the  festivities.  These  favours  were 
concealed,  in  the  case  of  the  ladies,  in  corsage 
bouquets;  in  that  of  the  men,  inside  false 
cigars.  There  was  to  be  a  general  opening  of 
the  favours  at  midnight,  the  time  set  for  un- 
masking. All  this  ceremony  was  regarded 
by  the  guests  as  a  delightful  innovation,  and 
21 


22     THE  MARD1  GRAS  MYSTERY 

by  Joseph  Maillard  as  a  delightful  way  of 
assuring  himself  that  only  the  invited  guests 
entered  his  house.  Invitations  might  be 
forged — faces,  never! 

Lucie  Ledanois  entered  the  presence  of  her 
stately  relative,  and  after  unmasking,  duti- 
fully exchanged  kisses  with  Mrs.  Maillard. 
Until  some  months  previously,  until  she  had 
come  into  the  management  of  her  own 
property — or  what  was  left  of  it — Lucie  had 
been  the  ward  of  the  Maillards.  Their  for- 
mer attitude  of  possession  still  lingered,  but 
they  were  relatives  for  whom  she  felt  little 
real  affection. 

"  Mercy,  child,  how  marvellous  you  look 
to-night!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Maillard,  holding 
her  off  and  examining  her  high  colour  with 
obvious  suspicion.  Mrs.  Maillard  was  her- 
self rather  plump  and  red,  and  stern  of  eye 
into  the  bargain.  She  was  a  keen,  masterful 
woman. 

"Thank  you,  ma'am,"  and  Lucie  made  a 
mock  courtesy.  "Do  you  like  little  Colum- 
bine?" 

"Very  much.  Here's  Aunt  Sally;  take 
Miss  Lucie's  cloak,  Sally." 

An  old  coloured  servant  bobbed  her  head 


MASQUERS  23 

in  greeting  to  Lucie,  who  removed  her  cloak. 
As  she  did  so,  she  saw  that  Mrs.  Maillard's 
voice  died  away,  and  that  the  lady's  eyes 
were  fastened  in  utter  amazement  upon  her 
throat. 

"Isn't  it  pretty,  aunt?e?"  she  asked,  smil- 
ingly. This  was  straining  the  relationship 
a  trifle,  but  it  was  a  custom  which  Lucie 
usually  followed  with  the  family. 

"My  goodness  gracious!"  The  stern  eyes 
hardened.  "Where — where  on  earth  did  you 
obtain  such  a  thing?  Why — why 

Columbine's  features  flinched.  She  was 
a  poor  relation,  of  course,  so  the  look  in  the 
older  woman's  eyes  and  the  implication  of 
the  words  formed  little  less  than  an  insult. 

Quietly  she  put  one  hand  to  her  throat 
and  removed  the  collar,  dropping  it  into  the 
hand  of  Mrs.  Maillard.  It  was  a  thing  to 
make  any  woman's  eyes  widen — a  collar  of 
exquisitely  wrought  gold  studded  with  ten 
great  blazing  star  sapphires.  Beside  it  the 
diamonds  that  bejewelled  Mrs.  Maillard's 
ample  front  looked  cold  and  lifeless. 

"That?"  queried  Lucie,  innocently,  pro- 
ducing a  scrap  of  chamois  and  dabbing  at 
her  nose.  "Oh,  that's  very  interesting!  It 


24     THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

was  made  for  Queen  Hortense — so  was  this 
scarf  that  keeps  my  ragged  hair  from  lopping 
out!" 

"You  didn't  buy  them,  certainly!"  de- 
manded Mrs.  Maillard. 

"Of  course  not.  They  were  a  present — 
only  this  morning." 

"Girl!"  The  lady's  voice  was  harsh.  "A 
present?  From  whom,  if  you  please?" 

"Oh,  I  promised  not  to  tell;  he's  a  par- 
ticular friend  of  mine.  Aren't  the  stones 
pretty?" 

Mrs.  Maillard  was  speechless.  She  com- 
pressed her  firm  lips  and  watched  Lucie 
replace  the  sapphire  collar  without  a  word  to 
offer.  Silently  she  extended  a  corsage  bou- 
quet from  the  pile  beside  her;  then,  in  a 
trembling  voice,  forced  herself  to  explain 
about  the  favour  inside. 

"And  I  hope,"  she  added,  "that  before 
receiving  any  more  such  valuable  presents 
you'll  consult  me.  Of  course,  if  you  don't 
wish  to  tell  about  this,  you  needn't;  but  a 
word  of  advice  will  often  save  a  girl  from 
making  very  serious  mistakes." 

"Thank  you,  auntie  dear,"  and  Lucie 
nodded  as  she  pinned  the  bouquet.  "You're 


MASQUERS  25 

just  as  dear  to  me  as  you  can  be!  See  you 
later." 

Slipping  her  mask  into  place  she  was  gone, 
not  without  relief.  She  knew  very  well  that 
within  half  an  hour  Bob  Maillard  would  be 
informed  that  she  had  accepted  gifts  of 
jewels  from  other  men,  with  all  the  accom- 
panying implications  and  additions  that  im- 
agination could  furnish.  For,  although  Bob 
Maillard  wanted  very  much  indeed  to  marry 
her  his  mother  had  no  intention  of  sanction- 
ing such  a  union. 

"Neither  has  Uncle  Joseph,"  she  reflected, 
smiling  to  herself,  "and  neither  have  I!  So 
we're  all  agreed,  except  Bob." 

"  Columbine ! "  A  hand  fell  upon  her  wrist. 
"Columbine!  Turn  and  confess  thy  sins!" 

A  cry  of  instinctive  alarm  broke  from  the 
girl;  she  turned,  only  to  break  into  a  laugh 
of  chagrin  at  her  own  fright. 

She  had  come  to  the  foot  of  the  wide,  old- 
fashioned  stairway  that  led  to  the  floors 
above,  and  beside  her  had  suddenly  appeared 
a  Franciscan  monk,  cowled  and  gowned  in 
sober  brown  from  head  to  foot. 

"You  frightened  me,  holy  man!"  she  cried, 
gaily.  "Confess  to  you,  indeed!  Not  I." 


26     THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

"Never  a  better  chance,  butterfly  of  the 
world!"  It  was  a  voice  that  she  dimly 
recognized,  yet  she  could  not  name  the 
owner:  a  merry,  carefree  voice  that  was 
slightly  disguised. 

"Never  a  better  chance,"  and  the  Fran- 
ciscan offered  his  arm.  "Haste  not  to  the 
dance,  fair  sister — tarry  a  while  and  invite 
the  soul  in  speech  of  import !  Having  passed 
the  dragon  at  the  gate,  tarry  a  moment  with 
this  man  of  vows " 

"Shrive  me  quickly,  then,"  she  said,  laugh- 
ing. 

"Now,  without  confession?  Would  you 
have  me  read  your  thoughts  and  give  pen- 
ance?" 

"If  you  can  do  that,  holy  man,  I  may 
confess;  so  prove  it  quickly!" 

For  the  moment  they  stood  alone.  Higher 
on  the  stairs,  and  among  the  rooms  behind 
them,  were  gay  groups  of  masquers — domi- 
noes, imposing  Mephistos,  backwoodsmen, 
gallants  of  Spain  and  France,  red  Indians  and 
turbaned  Hindus. 

The  Franciscan  leaned  forward.  His  voice 
came  low,  distinct,  clear-cut,  and  he  spoke 
in  the  French  which  Lucie  understood  as 


MASQUERS  27 

another  mother-tongue,  as  do  most  of  the 
older  families  of  New  Orleans. 

"  See  how  I  read  them,  mademoiselle !  One 
thought  is  of  uneasy  suspicion;  it  is  typified  by 
a  hard-lipped,  grasping  man.  One  thought  is 
of  profound  regret;  it  is  typified  by  a  darkly 
welling  stream  of  oil.  One  thought " 

Suddenly  Lucie  had  shrunk  away  from  him. 
"Who — who  are  you?"  she  breathed,  with  a 
gasp  that  was  almost  of  fear.  "Who  are 
you,  monsieur?" 

"A  humble  brother  of  minor  orders,"  and 
he  bowed.  "Shall  I  not  continue  with  my 
reading?  The  third  thought,  mademoiselle, 
is  one  of  hope;  it  is  typified  by  a  small  man 
who  is  dressed  all  in  gray " 

Lucie  turned  away  from  him  quickly. 

"I  think  that  you  have  made  some  grave 
error,  monsieur,"  she  said.  Her  voice  was 
cold,  charged  with  dismissal  and  offended 
dignity.  "I  pray  you,  excuse  me." 

Not  waiting  any  response,  she  hastily  ran 
up  the  stairs.  After  her,  for  a  moment, 
gazed  the  Franciscan,  then  shrugged  his  wide 
shoulders  and  plunged  into  the  crowd. 

The  ballroom  on  the  top  floor  was  throb- 
bing with  music,  gay  with  costumes  and 


28     THE  MARD1  GRAS  MYSTERY 

decorations,  thronged  with  dancing  couples. 
Into  the  whirl  of  it  pirouetted  Columbine. 
Almost  at  once  she  found  herself  dancing 
with  a  gorgeously  attired  Musketeer;  she 
separated  from  him  as  quickly  as  possible, 
for  she  recognized  him  as  Bob  Maillard.  Nor 
did  he  find  her  again,  although  he  searched, 
not  knowing  her  identity;  for  she  evaded  him. 

While  she  danced,  while  she  chattered  and 
laughed  and  entered  into  the  mad  gaiety  of 
the  evening,  Lucie  Ledanois  could  not  banish 
from  her  mind  that  ominous  Franciscan. 
How  could  he  have  known?  How  could  he 
have  guessed  what  only  she  and  one  other 
barely  suspected?  There  was  no  proof,  of 
course;  the  very  breath  of  suspicion  seemed 
a  calumny  against  an  upright  man ! 

Joseph  Maillard  had  sold  that  Terrebonne 
land  six  months  before  any  gas  or  oil  had  been 
discovered  there,  and  eight  months  before 
Xucie  had  come  into  the  management  of  her 
own  affairs.  He  had  not  known  about  the 
minerals,  of  course;  it  was  a  case  only  of  bad 
judgment.  Yet,  indubitably,  he  was  now  a 
shareholder  and  officer  in  the  Bayou  Oil 
Company,  the  concern  which  had  bought  that 
strip  of  land. 


MASQUERS  29 

Two  years  previously  Maillard  had  sold 
that  swamp  land  up  in  St.  Landry  parish;  the 
land  had  been  drained  and  sectioned  off  by 
real  estate  people  at  enormous  profit. 

Lucie  strove  angrily  to  banish  the  dark 
thoughts  from  her  mind.  Why,  Maillard 
was  a  rich  man,  a  banker,  an  honorable 
gentleman!  To  doubt  his  honour,  although 
he  was  a  harsh  and  a  stern  man,  was  impos- 
sible. Lucie  knew  him  better  than  most, 
and  could  not  believe 

"May  I  crave  pardon  for  my  error?"  came 
a  voice  at  her  elbow.  She  turned,  to  see  the 
Franciscan  again  beside  her.  "With  a  thou- 
sand apologies  for  impertinence,  mademoi- 
selle; I  am  very  sorry  for  my  faults.  Will 
not  that  admission  obtain  for  me  one  little 
dance,  one  hint  of  forgiveness  from  fair 
Columbine?" 

Something  in  his  voice  spelt  sincerity. 
Lucie,  smiling,  held  out  her  hand. 

"You  are  pardoned,  holy  man.  If  you 
can  dance  in  that  friar's  robe,  then  try  it!" 

Could  he  dance,  indeed!  Who  could  not 
dance  with  Columbine  for  partner?  So  say- 
ing, the  monk  proved  his  word  by  the  deed 
and  proved  it  well.  Nor  did  he  again  hint 


30     THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

that  he  had  recognized  her;  until,  as  they 
parted,  he  once  more  left  her  astonished  and 
perturbed.  As  he  bowed  he  murmured : 

"Beware,  sweet  Columbine!  Beware  of 
the  gay  Aramis!  Beware  of  his  proposals!" 

He  was  gone  upon  the  word. 

Aramis?  Why,  that  must  be  the  Muske- 
teer, of  course — Bob  Maillard!  The  name, 
with  its  implications,  was  a  clever  hit.  But 
who  was  this  brown  monk,  who  seemed  to 
know  so  much,  who  danced  so  divinely, 
whose  French  was  like  music?  A  vague 
suspicion  was  in  the  girl's  mind,  but  she  had 
no  proof. 

Half  an  hour  after  this  Bob  Maillard  came 
to  her,  and  with  impatient  words  made  a 
path  through  the  circle  which  surrounded  her. 
He  caught  her  hand  and  bent  over  it  with  an 
affectation  of  gallantry  which  became  him 
well,  for  in  his  costume  he  made  a  handsome 
figure. 

"I  know  you  now,  Lucie!"  he  murmured. 
"I  must  see  you  at  once — in  the  conserva- 
tory." 

She  was  minded  to  refuse,  but  assented 
briefly.  The  words  of  the  monk  intrigued 
her;  what  had  the  man  guessed?  If  Bob 


MASQUERS  31 

were  indeed  about  to  propose,  she  would  this 
time  cut  off  his  hopes  for  good.  But — was 
it  that  sort  of  a  proposal? 

As  she  managed  to  rid  herself  of  her  ad- 
mirers, and  descended  to  the  conservatory, 
she  was  highly  vexed  with  herself  and  the 
Franciscan,  and  so  came  to  her  appointment 
in  no  equable  frame  of  mind.  She  found 
Maillard  waiting  in  the  old-fashioned  con- 
servatory; he  had  unmasked,  and  was  puffing 
a  cigarette.  His  heavy  features  and  bold, 
shrewd  eyes  were  fastened  hungrily  upon  her 
as  he  came  to  meet  her. 

"By  gad,  Lucie,  you're  beautiful  to-night!" 

"Thanks,  cousin  Robert.  Was  it  for 
that ?" 

"No!  See  here,  where  did  you  get  that 
collar  of  jewels?" 

"Indeed!"  The  girl  proudly  drew  herself 
up.  "What  business  is  that  of  yours,  sir?" 

"Aren't  you  one  of  the  family?  It's  our 
business  to  protect  your  rep " 

"  Be  careful ! "  Anger  trembled  in  her  voice, 
cut  off  his  words.  "Be  careful!" 

"But  damn  it — Lucie!  Don't  you  know 
that  I  want  to  marry  you " 

"My  dear  Robert,  I  certainly  do  not  want 


32     THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

to  marry  any  man  who  swears  to  my  face — 
you  least  of  all!"  she  coldly  intervened.  "I 
have  already  refused  you  three  times;  let  this 
be  the  fourth  and  last.  I  owe  you  no  account 
of  my  possessions  nor  where  I  get  them;  I  am 
entirely  capable  of  managing  my  own  affairs. 
Now,  kindly  inform  me  why  you  wished  me 
to  meet  you  here.  Also,  you  know  that  I 
don't  like  cigarette  smoke." 

Sulkily,  Maillard  threw  away  his  cigarette; 
with  an  effort  he  calmed  himself.  He  was 
anything  but  a  fool,  this  young  man.  He  was 
rather  clever,  and  saw  that  he  had  so  long 
considered  his  pretty  cousin  a  personal  pos- 
session that  he  was  now  in  some  danger  of 
losing  her. 

"I  have  a  chance  to  make  some  money 
for  you  in  a  hurry,"  he  said.  "Your  father 
left  you  a  good  deal  of  land  up  Bayou  Terre- 
bonne  way ' 

"Your  father  sold  some  of  it,"  she  put  in, 
idly.  His  eyes  flickered  to  the  thrust. 

"Yes;  but  you've  plenty  left,  near  Paradis. 
It's  away  from  the  gas  field,  but  I'm  inter- 
ested in  an  oil  company.  We've  plenty  of 
money,  and  we're  going  to  go  strong  after  the 
liquid  gold.  That  land  of  yours  is  good  for 


MASQUERS  33 

nothing  else,  and  if  you  want  to  make  some 
money  out  of  it  I'll  swing  the  company  into 
leasing  at  a  good  figure  and  drilling  there." 

"You  think  there's  oil  on  the  land?" 

"No."  He  made  a  swift,  energetic  gesture 
of  dissent.  "To  be  frank,  I  don't.  But  I'd 
like  to  throw  a  bit  of  luck  your  way,  Lucie. 
We're  getting  a  lot  of  money  into  the  com- 
pany, and  some  brains.  That  fellow  Gra- 
mont — the  prince,  you  know  him — he's  an 
engineer  and  a  geologist,  and  he's  in  the 
swim." 

"So,"  the  girl  smiled  a  little,  "you  would 
betray  your  business  friends  in  order  to  make 
a  bit  of  money  for  me?" 

Maillard  stared  at  her.  "Well,  if  you  put 
it  that  way,  yes!  I'd  do  more  than  that 
for— 

"Thank  you,"  she  interrupted,  her  voice 
cold.  "I  don't  think  I'd  trust  your  sagacity 
very  far,  Robert.  Good-night." 

She  turned  from  him  and  was  gone,  dancing 
through  the  great  rooms  like  a  true  Colum- 
bine. Later  he  saw  her  among  the  dancers 
above,  although  he  obtained  no  further  speech 
with  her. 

Midnight  neared,  and  brought  a  concern 


34     THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

to  many;  the  Midnight  Masquer  had  gained 
his  name  by  invariably  appearing  a  moment 
or  two  before  the  stroke  of  twelve.  Jachin 
Fell,  who  divided  his  time  between  enjoying 
the  smoking  room  and  wandering  about 
among  the  masquers,  perceived  that  Joseph 
Maillard  was  watching  the  time  with  anxiety. 

A  large  man,  stern  and  a  bit  scornful  of 
look,  Maillard  was  imposing  rather  than 
handsome.  He  appeared  the  typical  banker, 
efficient,  devoid  of  all  sentiment.  Amused 
by  the  man's  evident  uneasiness,  Jachin 
Fell  kept  him  in  view  while  the  moments 
dragged.  One  might  have  thought  that  the 
little  gray  man  was  studying  the  financier 
as  an  entomologist  studies  a  butterfly  on  a 
pin. 

Shortly  before  twelve  Columbine  pir- 
ouetted up  to  Jachin  Fell  and  accepted  the 
arm  he  offered  her.  They  were  for  the  mo- 
ment alone,  in  a  corner  of  the  ballroom. 

"I  must  see  you  to-morrow,  please,"  she 
breathed. 

" Gladly,"  he  assented.  " May  I  call?  It's 
Sunday,  you  know 

"If  you  will;  at  three.  Something  has 
happened,  but  I  cannot  speak  of  it  here. 


MASQUERS  35 

Does  any  one  else  know  that  you — that  you 
are  interested  in  my  affairs?" 

The  pale  gray  eyes  of  the  little  gray  man 
looked  very  innocent  and  wondering. 

"Certainly  not,  my  dear!    Why?" 

"I'll  tell  you  to-morrow."  Then  she  broke 
jnto  a  laugh.  "Well,  it  is  midnight — and  the 
Masquer  has  not  appeared!  I'm  almost 
sorry." 

The  lights  flickered  off  for  a  moment,  then 
on  again.  The  signal  for  unmasking! 

The  dancing  ceased.  From  the  whole 
room  arose  a  babel  of  voices — cries  of  surprise, 
exclamations,  merry  laughter.  Columbine  re- 
moved her  mask.  An  instant  later  Joseph 
Maillard  approached  them,  chuckling  to  him- 
self and  looking  hugely  relieved. 

"Ha,  Lucie!  I  guessed  you  beneath  the 
Columbine  daintiness !  Well,  Jachin,  it  was  a 
hoax  after  all,  eh?  Some  confounded  joke. 
Come  down  to  the  library  in  five  minutes, 
will  you?  A  meeting  of  the  select  circle, 
to  discuss  prohibition." 

"Aren't  you  going  to  invite  me,  Uncle 
Joseph?"  broke  in  Lucie,  gaily. 

"No,  no,  little  one!"  Maillard  reproved 
her,  laughingly.  "Look  not  upon  the  silver 


36     THE  MARD1  GRAS  MYSTERY 

cup  at  your  age,  my  dear.  Have  you  ex- 
amined your  favour  yet?" 

Remembering,  the  girl  caught  at  her  cor- 
sage. Cries  of  delight  were  arising  on  all 
sides  as  the  favours  were  revealed — most 
handsome  favours,  even  for  Mardi  Gras! 
From  the  heart  of  the  rosebuds  in  her  hand 
Lucie  removed  a  brooch  of  old  filigree  work  set 
with  a  group  of  pearls.  She  glanced  about 
for  Jachin  Fell,  but  he  had  vanished  with 
Maillard.  A  voice  rose  at  her  elbow : 

"Mademoiselle,  you  are  not  less  lucky  than 
beautiful !  Pearls  to  the  pearl ! ' ' 

She  turned  to  see  the  Franciscan — no 
longer  masked,  but  now  gazing  at  her  from 
a  frank,  laughing  countenance,  still  partially 
veiled  by  the  brown  cowl  that  was  drawn  up 
close  about  his  head. 

"Henry  Gramont!"  she  exclaimed.  "Oh, 
I  half  suspected  that  it  was  you " 

"But  you  were  not  sure?"  he  chuckled. 
"You're  not  offended  with  me,  Lucie?" 

"I  should  be."  She  tossed  her  head.  "You 
were  impertinent,  M.  le  prince!" 

He  made  a  distasteful  gesture.  "None 
of  that ,  Lucie !  You  know  I  don 't  like  it " 

"Oh,  la,  la!"  she  mocked  him.     "M.  le 


MASQUERS  37 

prince  is  seeing  America,  n'est  ce  pas?  He 
has  come  to  America  to  find  a  rich  wife,  is 
it  not?" 

Gramont's  face  lost  its  smile,  and  suddenly 
became  almost  harsh. 

"I  shall  call  upon  you  at  four  to-morrow, 
Lucie,"  he  said,  abruptly,  and  turned.  Nor 
did  he  pause  to  get  her  reply.  An  instant 
afterward  Lucie  was  surrounded  by  a  merry 
group  of  friends,  and  she  saw  no  more  of 
Henry  Gramont. 

About  five  minutes  later  those  in  the  ball- 
room distinctly  heard,  through  the  open  win- 
dows, the  heavy  pulsations  of  an  airplane 
motor. 


CHAPTER  III 

The  Bandit 

JOSEPH  MAILLARD'S  library  was  on  the 
ground  floor  of  the  house;  it  was  a  sedate 
and  stately  room,  and  was  invariably 
shut  off  to  itself.  Not  even  to-night,  of  all 
nights,  was  it  thrown  open  with  the  remainder 
of  the  house. 

Here,  for  a  good  half  hour,  had  been  Uncle 
Neb.  The  old  butler  was  mysteriously  en- 
gaged with  certain  tall  silver  goblets,  fragrant 
mint,  and  yet  more  fragrant — if  illegal — 
bottles.  And  it  was  here  that  Joseph  Maillard 
summoned  half  a  dozen  of  his  particular 
cronies  and  friends,  after  the  stroke  of  mid- 
night had  assured  him  that  there  was  no  dan- 
ger to  be  expected  from  the  bandit.  His 
son  was  not  among  the  number.  The  half 
dozen  were  nearly  all  elderly  men,  and, 
with  the  exception  of  Jachin  Fell,  all  were 
men  of  prominent  affairs. 

About  the  table  grouped  Maillard  and  his 


THE  BANDIT  39 

guests,  while  in  the  background  hovered 
Uncle  Neb,  glistening  black,  hugely  import- 
ant, and  grinning  widely.  Fell  was  the  last 
to  enter  the  room,  and  as  he  did  so  old  Judge 
Forester  turned  to  him  smilingly. 

"Ah,  here  is  an  attorney  in  whom  there  is 
no  guile!  Jachin,  come  and  settle  a  dispute. 
I  maintain  that  the  dignity  of  the  law  is  not 
less  now  than  in  the  old  days;  that  it  has 
merely  accommodated  itself  to  changing  con- 
ditions, and  that  it  is  a  profession  for  gentle- 
men now  as  always.  Jules,  state  your 
argument!" 

Jules  Delagroux,  a  white-haired  Creole 
lawyer  of  high  standing,  smiled  a  trifle  sadly. 

"My  case,"  he  said,  "is  that  the  old  days 
are  dead;  that  the  law  is  no  longer  a  profes- 
sion, but  a  following  for  charlatans.  In  a 
word,  that  the  law  has  been  killed  by  the 
lawyers."  He  gestured  finality  and  glanced 
at  Fell. 

"So?"  Jachin  Fell  smiled  in  his  shy  fashion. 
"Gentlemen,  I  heartily  agree  with  you  both. 
I  am  an  attorney,  but  I  do  not  practise  be- 
cause I  cannot  accommodate  myself  to  those 
very  changing  conditions  of  which  Judge 
Forester  speaks.  To-day,  the  lawyer  must 


40     THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

be  a  politician;  he  must  be  an  adept  in  the 
trick  of  words  and  deeds;  he  must  be  able  not 
to  serve  his  profession  but  to  make  it  serve 
him,  and  he  must  remember  always  that  the 
rights  of  property  are  more  sacred  than  those 
of  life  and  liberty.  Otherwise,  he  will  re- 
main honest  and  poor." 

An  ejaculation  of  "True"  from  the  judge 
brought  smiles.  Jachin  Fell  continued  whim- 
sically: 

"Regarding  these  very  conditions  many 
years  ago,  gentlemen,  I  was  tempted  to 
change  my  profession — but  to  what?  I  was 
tempted  to  enter  the  church  until  I  saw 
that  the  same  conditions  hold  good  of  a 
clergyman.  I  was  tempted  to  enter  medicine 
until  I  saw  that  they  also  held  true  of  a  doctor. 
I  was  tempted  to  other  things,  always  with 
the  like  result.  Well,  you  know  the  story 
of  Aunt  Dixie  and  her  black  underwear — 
'Honey,  I  ain't  ashamed  of  mah  grief;  when 
I  mourns,  I  mourns ! '  Even  so  with  the 
law " 

A  burst  of  laughter  drowned  him  out, 
and  the  original  argument  was  forgotten. 
Maillard,  standing  before  a  small  wall  safe 
that  flanked  the  open  hearth,  lifted  his  silver 


THE  BANDIT  41 

goblet,  asteam  with  beads.  The  moment  for 
which  he  had  been  waiting  was  here;  he 
launched  his  little  thunderbolt  with  an  air 
of  satisfied  importance. 

"My  friends,  I  have  a  confession  to  make!" 
he  announced.  "To-day  I  received  a  note 
from  the  Midnight  Masquer  stating  that 
he  would  be  with  us  this  evening,  presuma- 
bly at  the  hour  of  midnight,  his  usual  time." 

These  words  brought  an  instant  silence. 
Uncle  Neb,  from  his  corner,  uttered  a  startled 
"Fore  de  lawd!"  that  rang  through  the 
room;  yet  no  one  smiled.  The  half-dozen 
men  were  tense,  watchful,  astonished.  But 
Maillard  swung  up  his  silver  cup  and  laughed 
gaily. 

"I  took  full  precautions,  gentlemen.  The 
hour  of  danger  is  past,  and  the  notorious 
bandit  has  not  arrived — or,  if  he  has  arrived, 
he  is  now  in  the  hands  of  the  law.  After 
all,  that  note  may  have  been  something  in 
the  nature  of  a  carnival  jest!  So  up  with 
your  cups,  my  friends — a  lifelong  health  to 
Mardi  Gras,  and  damnation  to  prohibition 
and  the  Midnight  Masquer!" 

From  everyone  broke  a  swift  assent  to 
the  toast,  a  murmur  of  relieved  tension.  The 


42     THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

silver  goblets  were  lifted,  touched  in  a  musical 
clinking  of  edges,  and  the  aromatic  breath 
of  juleps  filled  the  library  as  the  drinkers,  in 
true  Southern  fashion,  buried  noses  in  the 
fragrant  mint.  Then,  as  the  cups  were  low- 
ered, from  the  recess  of  the  curtained  windows 
at  one  end  of  the  room  came  a  quiet  voice: 

"I  thank  you,  gentlemen!  But  I  must  re- 
mind you,  Maillard,  that  there  was  not  a 
time  limit  set  in  the  note." 

With  a  simultaneous  gasp  everyone  turned. 
Maillard  staggered;  his  face  went  livid. 
Uncle  Neb,  who  had  been  advancing  to  refill 
the  cups,  dropped  his  silver  tray  with  a  crash 
that  went  unheeded,  indeed  unheard.  Every 
eye  was  fastened  upon  that  amazing  figure 
now  advancing  from  the  shadows  of  the 
recess. 

It  was  the  figure  of  an  aviator,  clad  in 
leather  from  top  to  toe,  the  goggles  and  hel- 
met shield  completely  masking  his  head  and 
features  from  recognition.  In  his  hand  he 
held  an  automatic  pistol,  which  covered  the 
group  of  men  before  him  with  its  threatening 
mouth. 

"Not  a  sound,  if  you  please,"  he  warned, 
his  voice  thin  and  nasal — obviously  disguised. 


THE  BANDIT  43 

"I  trust  that  none  of  you  gentlemen  is  armed, 
because  I  am  very  quick  on  the  trigger.  A 
very  pleasant  surprise,  Maillard?  You'd 
given  me  up,  eh?" 

For  an  instant  no  one  spoke.  Then  Mail- 
lard  moved  slightly,  moved  his  hand  toward 
a  button  set  in  the  wall  near  the  safe.  The 
voice  of  the  bandit  leaped  out  at  him  like 
thin  steel: 

"Quiet,  you  fool!  If  you  touch  that  but- 
ton- 

Maillard  stiffened,  and  gripped  the  table 
edge  with  his  shaking  hand. 

"This  is  an  outrage,  suh!"  began  Judge 
Forester,  his  white  goatee  bristling.  The 
bandit  bowed  slightly,  and  addressed  the 
gathering  in  a  tone  of  dry  raillery: 

"An  outrage?  Exactly.  You  were  just 
now  discussing  the  majesty  of  the  law.  Well, 
I  assure  you  that  I  found  your  discussion 
intensely  interesting.  Mr.  Fell  correctly 
stated  that  the  rights  of  property  are  more 
sacred  in  legal  eyes  than  the  rights  of  human 
life.  You  see,  gentlemen,  the  discussion 
touched  me  very  closely ! 

"I  am  now  engaged  in  outraging  the  law, 
and  I  have  this  amendment  to  propose  to  Mr. 


44     THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

Fell:  That  if  he  had  been  tempted  to  follow 
the  profession  of  a  robber  he  would  have 
found  the  same  conditions  prevailing  which 
he  quoted  as  applying  to  other  professions." 

Jachin  Fell,  alone  of  those  about  the  table, 
allowed  a  smile  to  curve  his  lips. 

"The  rights  of  property,"  pursued  the 
bandit  with  a  deadly  smoothness,  "are  to 
me,  also,  far  more  sacred  than  human  life; 
there  I  agree  with  the  law.  So,  gentlemen, 
kindly  empty  your  pockets  on  the  table." 
His  voice  became  crisp.  "The  jewelled  scarf- 
pins  which  you  received  as  favours  this  evening 
may  be  added  to  the  collection;  otherwise, 
I  shall  not  touch  your  private  possessions. 
No  watches,  thank  you.  Maillard,  kindly 
begin!  I  believe  that  you  carry  a  wallet? 
If  you  please." 

The  banker  could  not  but  obey.  His 
hands  trembling  with  fear  and  rage,  he  took 
from  his  pocket  a  wallet,  and  emptied  a  sheaf 
of  bills  upon  the  table.  One  after  another, 
the  other  men  followed  his  example.  The 
bandit  made  no  attempt  to  search  them, 
but  watched  with  eyes  that  glittered  from 
behind  his  mask  as  they  laid  money  and  scarf- 
pins  on  the  table.  When  it  came  his  turn, 


THE  BANDIT  45 

Jachin  Fell  drew  a  single  bill  from  his  pocket, 
and  laid  it  down. 

"You  put  some  faith  in  that  warning,  Mr. 
Fell? "  The  bandit  laughed.  "Do  you  think 
that  you  will  know  me  again?" 

"I  hardly  believe  so,  sir,"  answered  Fell 
in  his  apologetic  fashion.  "Your  disguise 
is  really  excellent." 

"Thank  you."  The  bandit's  voice  held  a 
thin  mockery.  "Coming  from  you,  sir,  that 
compliment  is  most  welcome." 

"What  the  devil  does  the  fellow  mean?" 
exploded  Judge  Forester. 

"Then  you  are  not  aware  that  Mr.  Fell  is  a 
man  of  large  affairs?"  The  bandit's  white 
teeth  flashed  in  a  smile.  "He  is  a  modest 
man,  this  attorney!  And  a  dangerous  man 
also,  I  assure  you.  But  come,  Mr.  Fell, 
I'll  not  betray  you." 

Jachin  Fell  obviously  did  not  appreciate 
the  pleasantry.  His  shy  and  wondering  feat- 
ures assumed  a  set  and  hardened  look. 

"Whoever  you  are,"  he  responded,  a  subtle 
click  of  anger  in  his  tone,  "you  shall  be  pun- 
ished for  this!" 

"For  what,  Mr.  Fell?  For  knowing  too 
much  of  your  private  affairs?"  The  bandit 


46     THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

laughed.  "Fear  not — I  am  only  an  amateur 
at  this  game,  fortunately!  So  do  your  worst, 
and  my  blessing  upon  you!  Now,  gentle- 
men, kindly  withdraw  a  few  paces  and  join 
Uncle  Neb  yonder  against  the  wall.  All  but 
you,  Maillard;  I'm  not  through  with  you 

yet." 

The  automatic  pistol  gestured;  under  its 
menace  everyone  obeyed  the  command,  for 
the  calm  assurance  of  the  bandit  made  it 
seem  extremely  likely  that  he  would  use  the 
weapon  without  compunction.  The  men 
withdrew  toward  the  far  end  of  the  room, 
where  a  word  from  the  aviator  halted  them. 
Maillard  remained  standing  where  he  was,  his 
heavy  features  now  mottled  with  impotent 
anger. 

The  Masquer  advanced  to  the  table  and 
gathered  the  heap  of  money  and  scarfpins 
into  the  leathern  pocket  of  his  coat.  During 
the  process  his  gaze  did  not  waver  from  the 
group  of  men,  nor  did  the  threat  of  his  weapon 
lift  from  the  banker  before  him. 

"Now,  Maillard,"  he  quietly  ordered,  "you 
will  have  the  kindness  to  turn  around  and 
open  the  wall  safe  behind  you.  And  don't 
touch  the  button." 


THE  BANDIT  47 

Maillard  started. 

"That  safe!  Why— why— damn  you,  I'll 
do  nothing  of  the  sort!" 

"If  you  don't,"  was  the  cool  threat,  "I'll 
shoot  you  through  the  abdomen.  A  man 
fears  a  bullet  there  worse  than  death.  It 
may  kill  you,  and  it  may  not;  really,  I  care 
very  little.  You — you  financier!" 

Scorn  leaped  into  the  quiet  voice,  scorn 
that  lashed  and  bit  deep. 

"You  money  trickster!  Do  you  think  I 
would  spare  such  a  man  as  you?  You  draw 
your  rents  from  the  poor  and  destitute,  your 
mortgages  cover  half  the  parishes  in  the 
state,  and  in  your  heart  is  neither  compassion 
nor  pity  for  man  or  woman.  You  take  the 
property  of  others  from  behind  the  safety 
curtain  of  the  law;  I  do  it  from  behind  a 
pistol!  I  rob  only  those  who  can  afford  to 
lose — am  I  really  as  bad  as  you,  in  the  eyes 
of  morality  and  ethics?  Bah!  I  could  shoot 
you  down  without  a  qualm!" 

In  his  voice  was  so  deadly  a  menace  that 
Maillard  trembled.  Yet  the  banker  drew 
himself  up  and  struggled  for  self-control, 
stung  as  he  was  by  this  flood  of  vituperation 
before  the  group  of  his  closest  friends. 


48     THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

"There  is  nothing  of  mine  in  that  safe," 
he  said,  his  voice  a  low  growl.  "I  have  given 
it  to  my  son  to  use.  He  is  not  here." 

"That,"  said  the  Masquer,  calmly,  "is 
exactly  why  I  desire  you  to  open  it.  Your 
son  must  make  his  contribution,  for  I  keenly 
regret  his  absence.  If  you  are  a  criminal, 
he  is  worse!  You  rob  and  steal  under  shelter 
of  the  law,  but  you  have  certain  limitations, 
certain  bounds  of  an  almost  outgrown  honour. 
He  has  none,  that  son  of  yours.  Why,  he 
would  not  hesitate  to  turn  your  own  tricks 
back  upon  you,  to  rob  you,  if  he  could!  Open 
that  safe  or  take  the  consequences;  no  more 
talk,  now!" 

The  command  cracked  out  like  a  whiplash. 
With  a  shrug  of  helplessness  the  banker 
turned  and  fumbled  with  the  protruding 
knob  of  the  safe.  With  one  exception  all 
eyes  were  fastened  upon  this  amazing  Mas- 
quer. The  exception  was  Jachin  Fell,  who, 
suddenly  alert  and  watchful,  had  turned  his 
attention  to  Maillard  and  the  safe,  a  keen 
speculation  in  his  gaze  as  though  he  were 
wondering  what  that  steel  vault  would  pro- 
duce. 

All  were  silent.    There  was  something  about 


THE  BANDIT  49 

this  Midnight  Masquer  that  held  them  in- 
tently. Perhaps  some  were  inclined  to  think 
him  a  jester,  one  of  the  party  masquerading 
under  the  famous  bandit's  guise;  if  so,  his 
last  words  to  Maillard  had  removed  all  such 
thought.  That  indictment  had  been  deadly 
and  terrible — and  true,  as  they  knew.  Bob 
Maillard  was  not  greatly  admired  by  those 
among  his  father's  friends  who  best  knew 
him. 

Now  the  door  of  the  safe  swung  open.  The 
compartments  appeared  empty. 

"Take  out  the  drawers  and  turn  them  up 
over  the  table,"  commanded  the  Masquer. 

Maillard  obeyed.  He  took  several  of  the 
small  drawers,  and  all  proved  to  be  empty; 
this  development  drew  a  dry  chuckle  from 
Jachin  Fell.  Then,  from  the  last  drawer, 
there  fell  out  on  the  table  a  large  envelope, 
sealed.  The  Masquer  leaned  forward,  seized 
upon  this  envelope,  and  crushed  it  into  his 
pocket. 

"Thank  you,"  he  observed.     "That  is  all." 

"Damn  you!"  cried  Maillard,  shaking  a 
fist.  "You'd  try  blackmail,  would  you? 

The  bandit  regarded  him  a  moment,  then 
laughed. 


50     THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

"If  you  knew  what  was  in  that  envelope, 
my  dear  financier,  you  might  not  speak  so 
hastily.  If  I  knew  what  was  in  it,  I  might 
answer  you.  But  I  don't  know.  I  only  sus- 
pect— and  hope." 

While  he  spoke  the  bandit  was  backing 
toward  the  door  that  opened  upon  the  lower 
hallway  of  the  house.  He  drew  this  door 
open,  glanced  swiftly  out  into  the  hall,  and 
then  placed  the  key  on  the  outside. 

"And  now,  my  friends — au  revoir  /" 

The  Masquer  sprang  backward  into  the 
hall.  The  door  slammed,  the  key  clicked. 
He  was  gone! 

Maillard  was  the  first  to  wake  into  voice 
and  action.  "The  other  door!"  he  cried. 
"Into  the  dining  room " 

He  flung  open  a  second  door  and  dashed 
into  the  dining  room,  followed  by  the  other 
men.  Here  the  windows,  giving  upon  the 
garden,  were  open.  Then  Maillard  came  to  a 
sudden  halt,  and  after  him  the  others;  through 
the  night  was  pulsating,  with  great  distinct- 
ness, the  throbbing  roar  of  an  airplane  motor ! 
From  Maillard  broke  a  bitter  cry : 

"The  detectives— I'll  get  the  fools  here! 
You  gentlemen  search  the  house;  Uncle  Neb, 


THE  BANDIT  51 

go  with  them,  into  every  room!  That  fellow 
can't  possibly  have  escaped " 

"No  word  of  alarm  to  the  ladies,"  ex- 
claimed Judge  Forester,  hurriedly.  "If  he 
was  not  upstairs,  then  they  have  seen  nothing 
of  him.  We  must  divide  and  search." 

They  hastily  separated.  Maillard  dashed 
away  to  summon  the  detectives,  also  to  get 
other  men  to  aid  in  the  search. 

The  result  was  vain.  Within  twenty  min- 
utes the  entire  house,  from  cellar  to  garret, 
had  been  thoroughly  gone  over,  without 
causing  any  alarm  to  the  dancers  in  the  ball- 
room. Maillard  began  to  think  himself  a 
little  mad.  No  one  had  been  seen  to  enter  or 
leave  the  house,  and  certainly  there  had  been 
no  airplane  about.  .The  Masquer  had  not 
appeared  except  in  the  library,  and  now  he  was 
most  indubitably  not  in  the  house.  By  all 
testimony,  he  had  neither  entered  it  nor  left  it ! 

"Well,  I'm  damned!"  said  Maillard,  help- 
lessly, to  Judge  Forester,  when  the  search 
was  concluded.  "Not  a  trace  of  the  scoun- 
drel! Here,  Fell — can't  you  help  us  out? 
Haven't  you  discovered  a  thing?" 

"Nothing,"  responded  Jachin  Fell,  calmly. 

At  this  instant  Bob  Maillard  rushed  up.     He 


52     THE  MARD1  GRAS  MYSTERY 

had  just  learned  of  the  Masquer's  visit.  In 
response  to  his  excited  questioning  his  father 
described  the  scene  in  the  library  and  added: 

"I  trust  there  was  nothing  important 
among  those  papers  of  yours,  Robert?" 

"  No,"  said  the  younger  man.  "  No.  Noth- 
ing valuable  at  all." 

Henry  Gramont  was  passing.  He  caught 
the  words  and  paused,  his  gaze  resting  for  an 
instant  upon  the  group.  A  faint  smile  rested 
upon  his  rather  harshly  drawn  features. 

"I  just  found  this,"  he  announced,  hold- 
ing out  a  paper.  "It  was  pinned  to  the  out- 
side of  the  library  door.  I  presume  that 
your  late  visitor  left  it  as  a  memento?" 

Jachin  Fell  took  the  paper,  the  other  men 
crowding  around  him. 

"Ah,  Maillard!  The  same  handwriting 
as  that  of  your  letter!" 

Upon  the  paper  was  pencilled  a  single  hasty 
line: 

My    compliments    to    Robert    Maillard — and    my 
thanks. 

Bob  Maillard  sprang  forward,  angrily  in- 
specting the  paper.  When  he  relinquished 
it,  Fell  calmly  claimed  it  again. 


THE  BANDIT  53 

"Confound  the  rogue!"  muttered  the 
banker's  son,  turning  away.  His  features 
were  pale,  perhaps  with  anger.  "There  was 
nothing  but  stock  certificates  in  that  envelope 
—and  they  can  be  reissued." 

The  festivities  were  not  broken  up.  As 
much  could  hardly  be  said  for  the  host,  who 
felt  keenly  the  verbal  lashing  that  had  been 
administered  to  him  before  his  friends.  News 
of  the  robbery  gradually  leaked  out  among  the 
guests;  the  generally  accepted  verdict  was  that 
the  Masquer  had  appeared,  only  to  be  fright- 
ened away  before  he  could  secure  any  loot. 

It  was  nearly  two  in  the  morning  when 
Jachin  Fell,  who  was  leaving,  encountered 
Henry  Gramont  at  the  head  of  the  wide 
stairway.  He  halted  and  turned  to  the 
younger  man. 

"Ah — have  you  a  pencil,  if  you  please?" 

"I  think  so,  Mr.  Fell."  Gramont  felt 
beneath  his  Franciscan's  robe,  and  extended 
a  pencil. 

Jachin  Fell  examined  it,  brought  a  paper 
from  beneath  his  domino,  and  wrote  down  a 
word.  The  paper  was  that  on  which  the 
farewell  message  of  the  Midnight  Masquer 
had  been  written. 


54     THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

"A  hard  lead,  a  very  hard  point  indeed!" 
said  Fell.  He  pocketed  the  paper  again  and 
regarded  Gramont  steadily  as  he  returned 
the  pencil.  "Few  men  carry  so  hard  a  pencil, 
sir." 

"You're  quite  right,"  and  Gramont  smiled. 
"I  borrowed  this  from  Bob  Maillard  only  a 
moment  ago.  Its  hardness  surprised  me." 

"Oh!"  said  Jachin  Fell,  mildly.  "By  the 
way,  aren't  you  the  Prince  de  Gramont? 
When  we  met  this  evening,  you  were  intro- 
duced as  plain  Mr.  Gramont,  but  it  seems  to 
me  that  I  had  heard  something " 

"Quite  a  mistake,  Mr.  Fell.  I'm  no  prince; 
simply  Henry  Gramont,  and  nothing  more. 
Also,  an  American  citizen.  Some  of  these 
New  Orleans  people  can't  forget  the  prince 
business,  most  unfortunately." 

"Ah,  yes,"  agreed  Fell,  shyly.  "Do  you 
know,  a  most  curious  thing " 

"Yes?"  prompted  Gramont,  his  eyes  intent 
upon  the  little  gray  man. 

"That  paper  you  brought  us — the  paper 
which  you  found  pinned  to  the  library  door," 
said  Fell,  apologetically.  "Do  you  know, 
Mr.  Gramont,  that  oddly  enough  there  were 
no  piu  holes  in  that  paper?" 


THE  BANDIT  55 

Gramont  smiled  faintly,  as  though  he  were 
inwardly  amused  over  the  remark. 

"Not  at  all  curious,"  he  said,  his  voice 
level.  "It  was  pinned  rather  stoutly — I  tore 
off  the  portion  bearing  the  message.  I'll 
wager  that  you'll  find  the  end  of  the  paper 
still  on  the  door  downstairs.  You  might  make 
certain  that  its  torn  edge  fits  that  of  the 
paper  in  your  pocket ;  if  it  did  not,  then  the 
fact  would  be  curious!  I  am  most  happy  to 
have  met  you,  Mr.  Fell.  I  trust  that  we  shall 
meet  again,  often." 

With  a  smile,  he  extended  his  hand,  which 
Mr.  Fell  shook  cordially. 

As  Jachin  Fell  descended  the  wide  staircase 
his  face  was  red — quite  red.  One  would 
have  said  that  he  had  just  been  worsted  in 
some  encounter,  and  that  the  sense  of  defeat 
still  rankled  within  him. 

Upon  gaining  the  lower  hall  he  glanced 
at  the  door  of  the  library.  There,  still  pinned 
to  the  wood  where  it  had  been  unregarded 
by  the  passersby,  was  a  small  scrap  of  paper. 
Mr.  Fell  glanced  at  it  again,  then  shook  his 
head  and  slowly  turned  away,  as  though  re- 
sisting a  temptation. 

"No,"  he  muttered.     "No.     It  would  be 


56     THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

sure  to  fit  the  paper  in  my  pocket.  It  would 
be  sure  to  fit,  confound  him!" 

A  little  later  he  left  the  house  and  walked 
along  the  line  of  cars  that  were  waiting  parked 
in  the  drive  and  in  the  street  outside.  Before 
one  of  the  cars  he  came  to  a  halt,  examining 
it  closely.  The  sleepy  chauffeur  got  out 
and  touched  his  cap  in  a  military  salute; 
he  was  a  sturdy  young  fellow,  his  face  very 
square  and  blunt. 

"A  very  handsome  car.  May  I  ask  whose 
it  is?"  inquired  Fell,  mildly. 

"Mr.  Gramont's,  sir,"  answered  the  chauf- 
feur. 

"Ah,  thank  you.  A  very  handsome  car  in- 
deed. Good-night!" 

Mr.  Fell  walked  away,  striding  briskly 
down  the  avenue.  When  he  approached 
the  first  street  light  he  came  to  a  pause, 
and  began  softly  to  pat  his  person  as  though 
searching  for  something. 

"I  told  you  that  you'd  pay  for  knowing 
too  much  about  me,  young  man!"  he  said, 
softly.  "What's  this,  now— what's  this?" 

A  slight  rustle  of  paper,  as  he  walked 
along,  had  attracted  his  attention.  He 
passed  his  hands  over  the  loose,  open  domino 


THE  BANDIT  57 

that  cloaked  him;  he  detected  a  scrap  of  paper 
pinned  to  it  in  the  rear.  He  loosened  the 
paper,  and  under  the  street  light  managed 
to  decipher  the  writing  which  it  bore. 

A  faint  smile  crept  to  his  lips  as  he  read 
the  pencilled  words: 

I  do  not  love  you,  Jachin  Fell, 
The  reason  why  I  cannot  tell; 
But  this  I  know,  and  know  full  well, 
I  do  not  love  you,  Jachin  Fell! 

"Certainly  the  fellow  has  wit,  if  not  origi- 
nality," muttered  Mr.  Fell,  as  he  carefully 
stowed  away  the  paper.  The  writing  upon 
it  was  in  the  hand  of  the  Midnight  Masquer. 


CHAPTER  IV 

Callers 

THE  house  in  which   Lucie  Ledanois 
lived  had  been  her  mother's;  the  fur- 
niture and  other  things  in  it  had  been 
her  mother's;  the  two  negro   servants,  who 
spoke   only  the   Creole   French    patois,   had 
been  her   mother's.     It  was  a  small  house, 
but  very  beautiful  inside.     The  exterior  be- 
trayed a  lack  of  paint  or  the  money   with 
which  to  have  painting  done. 

The  Ledanois  family,  although  distantly 
connected  with  others  such  as  the  Maillards, 
had  sent  forth  its  final  bud  of  fruition  in  the 
girl  Lucie.  Her  mother  had  died  while  she 
was  yet  an  infant,  and  through  the  years 
she  had  companioned  her  father,  an  invalid 
during  the  latter  days.  He  had  never  been 
a  man  to  count  dollars  or  costs,  and  to  a  large 
extent  he  had  outworn  himself  and  the  family 
fortunes  in  a  vain  search  for  health. 

With  Lucie  he  had  been  in  Europe  at  the 

58 


CALLERS  59 

outbreak  of  war,  and  had  come  home  to 
America  only  to  die  shortly  afterward.  Once 
deprived  of  his  fine  recklessness,  the  girl  had 
found  her  affairs  in  a  bad  tangle.  Under 
the  guardianship  of  Maillard  the  tangle 
had  been  somewhat  resolved  and  simplified, 
but  even  Maillard  would  appear  to  have 
made  mistakes,  and  of  late  Lucie  had  against 
her  will  suspected  something  amiss  in  the 
matter  of  these  mistakes. 

It  was  natural,  then,  that  she  should  take 
Jachin  Fell  into  her  confidence.  Maillard 
had  been  her  guardian,  but  it  was  to  Fell 
that  she  had  always  come  with  her  girlish 
cares  and  troubles,  during  even  the  lifetime 
of  her  father.  She  had  known  Fell  all  her 
life;  she  had  met  him  in  strange  places,  both 
at  home  and  abroad.  She  entertained  a  well- 
grounded  suspicion  that  Jachin  Fell  had  loved 
her  mother,  and  this  one  fact  lay  between 
them,  never  mentioned  but  always  there, 
like  a  bond  of  faith  and  kindliness. 

At  precisely  three  o'clock  of  the  Sunday 
afternoon  Jachin  Fell  rang  the  doorbell 
and  Lucie  herself  admitted  him.  She  ushered 
him  into  the  parlour  that  was  restful  with  its 
quiet  brasses  and  old  rosewood. 


60     THE  MARD1  GRAS  MYSTERY 

"Tell  me  quickly,  Uncle  Jachin!"  eagerly 
exclaimed  the  girl.  "Did  you  actually  see 
the  Midnight  Masquer  last  night?  I  didn't 
know  until  afterward  that  he  had  really  been 
downstairs  and  had  robbed " 

"I  saw  him,  my  dear,"  and  the  little  gray 
man  smiled.  There  was  more  warmth  to 
his  smile  than  usual  just  now.  Perhaps 
it  was  a  reflection  from  the  eager  vitality 
which  so  shone  in  the  eyes  of  Lucie.  "I. 
saw  him,  yes." 

A  restful  face  was  hers — not  beautiful  at 
first  glance;  a  little  too  strong  for  beauty 
one  would  say.  The  deep  gray  eyes  were 
level  and  quiet  and  wide  apart,  and  on  most 
occasions  were  quite  inscrutable.  They  were 
now  filled  with  a  quick  eagerness  as  they 
rested  upon  Jachin  Fell.  Lucie  called  him 
uncle,  but  not  as  she  called  Joseph  Maillard 
uncle;  here  was  no  relationship,  no  formal 
affectation  of  relationship,  but  a  purely  abid- 
ing trust  and  friendship. 

Jachin  Fell  had  done  more  for  Lucie  than 
she  herself  knew  or  would  know;  without  her 
knowledge  he  had  quietly  taken  care  of  her 
finances  to  an  appreciable  extent.  Between 
them  lay  an  affection  that  was  very  real. 


CALLERS  61 

Lucie,  better  than  most,  knew  the  extraordi- 
nary capabilities  of  this  little  gray  man;  yet 
not  even  Lucie  guessed  a  tenth  of  the  char- 
acter that  lay  beneath  his  surface.  To  her 
he  was  never  reserved  or  secretive.  None- 
theless, she  touched  sometimes  an  impene- 
trable wall  that  seemed  ever  present  within 
him. 

"You  saw  him?"  repeated  the  girl,  quickly. 
"What  was  he  like?  Do  you  know  who  he 
is?" 

"Certainly  I  know,"  replied  Fell,  still 
smiling  at  her. 

"Oh!     Then  who  is  he?" 

"Softly,  softly,  young  lady!  I  know  him, 
but  even  to  you  I  dare  not  breathe  his  name 
until  I  obtain  some  direct  evidence.  Let  us 
call  him  Mr.  X.,  after  the  approved  methods 
of  romance,  and  I  shall  expound  what  I  know." 

He  groped  in  his  vest  pocket.  Lucie  sprang 
up,  bringing  a  smoking  stand  from  the  corner 
of  the  room  to  his  chair.  She  held  a  match  to 
his  El  Rey,  and  then  curled  up  on  a  Napoleon 
bed  and  watched  him  intently  while  he  spoke. 

"The  bandit  did  not  enter  the  house  during 
the  evening,  nor  did  he  leave,  nor  was  he 
found  in  the  house  afterward,"  he  said,  tone- 


62     THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

lessly.  "So,  incredible  as  it  may  appear, 
he  was  one  of  the  guests.  This  Mr.  X.  came 
to  the  dance  wearing  the  aviator's  costume, 
or  most  of  it,  underneath  his  masquerade 
costume.  When  he  was  ready  to  act,  he 
doffed  his  outer  costume,  appeared  as  the 
Midnight  Masquer,  effected  his  purpose,  then 
calmly  donned  his  outer  costume  again  and 
resumed  his  place  among  the  guests.  You 
understand? 

"Well,  then!  Maillard  yesterday  received 
a  note  from  the  Masquer,  brazenly  stating 
that  he  intended  to  call  during  the  evening. 
I  have  that  note.  It  was  written  with  an 
extremely  hard  lead  pencil,  such  as  few  men 
carry,  because  it  does  not  easily  make  very 
legible  writing.  Last  night  I  asked  Mr.  X. 
for  a  pencil,  and  he  produced  one  with  an 
extra  hard  lead — mentioning  that  he  had 
borrowed  it  from  Bob  Maillard,  as  indeed  he 
had." 

"What!     Surely,  you  don't  mean " 

"Of  course  I  don't.  Mr.  X.  is  very  clever, 
that's  all.  Here  is  what  took  place  last  night. 
Mr.  X.  brought  us  another  note  from  the 
Masquer,  saying  that  he  had  found  it  pinned 
to  the  library  door.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 


CALLERS  63 

he  had  written  it  on  a  leaf  torn  from  his  note- 
book. I  took  the  note  from  him,  observing 
at  the  time  that  the  paper  had  no  pin  holes. 
Probably,  Mr.  X.  saw  that  there  was  some- 
thing amiss;  he  presently  went  back  down- 
stairs, took  the  remainder  of  the  torn  leaf 
from  his  notebook,  and  pinned  it  to  the  door. 
A  little  later,  I  met  him  and  mentioned  the 
lack  of  pin  holes;  he  calmly  referred  me  to 
the  piece  on  the  door,  saying  that  he  had 
merely  torn  off  the  note  without  removing 
the  pins.  You  follow  me?" 

"Of  course,"  murmured  the  girl,  her  eyes 
wide  in  fascinated  interest.  "And  he  knew 
that  you  guessed  him  to  be  the  Masquer?" 

"He  suspected  me,  I  think,"  said  Fell, 
mildly.  "It  is  understood  that  you  will  not 
go  about  tracing  these  little  clues?  I  do  not 
wish  to  disclose  his  identity,  even  to  your 
very  discreet  brain " 

"Don't  be  silly,  Uncle  Jachin!"  she  broke 
in.  "You  know  I'll  do  nothing  of  the  sort. 
Go  on,  please!  Did  you  find  the  airplane?" 

"Yes."  Jachin  Fell  smiled  drily.  "I  was 
thinking  of  that  as  I  left  the  house  and  came 
to  the  line  of  waiting  automobiles.  A  word 
with  one  of  the  outside  detectives  showed  me 


64     THE  MARD1  GRAS  MYSTERY 

that  one  of  the  cars  in  the  street  had  been 
testing  its  engine  about  midnight.  I  found 
that  the  car  belonged  to  Mr.  X. 

"How  simple,  Lucie,  and  how  very  clever! 
The  chauffeur  worked  a  powerful  motor 
with  a  muffler  cutout  at  about  the  time  Mr. 
X.,  inside  the  house,  was  making  his  appear- 
ance. It  scarcely  sounded  like  an  airplane 
motor,  yet  frightened  and  startled,  people 
would  imagine  that  it  did.  Thus  arose  the 
legend  that  the  Midnight  Masquer  came 
and  departed  by  means  of  airplane — a  theory 
aided  ingeniously  by  his  costume.  Well, 
that  is  all  I  know  or  suspect,  my  dear  Lucie! 
And  now— 

"Now,  I  suppose,"  said  the  girl,  thought- 
fully, "you'll  put  that  awful  Creole  of  yours 
on  the  track  of  Mr.  X.?  Ben  Chacherre  is 
a  good  chauffeur,  and  he's  amusing  enough — 
but  he's  a  bloodhound!  I  don't  wonder  that 
he  used  to  be  a  criminal.  Even  if  you  have 
rescued  him  from  a  life  of  crime,  you  haven't 
improved  his  looks." 

"Exactly — Ben  is  at  work,"  assented  Jachin 
Fell.  "The  gentleman  under  suspicion  is 
very  prominent.  To  accuse  him  without 
proof  would  be  utter  folly.  To  catch  him 


CALLERS  65 

4 

in  flagrante  delicto  will  be  difficult.  So,  I  am 
in  no  haste.  He  will  not  disappear,  believe 
me,  and  something  may  turn  up  at  any  mo- 
ment to  undo  him.  Besides,  I  can  as  yet 
discover  no  motive  for  his  crimes,  since  he  is 
quite  well  off  financially." 

"Gambling,"  suggested  the  girl. 

"I  cannot  find  that  he  has  lost  any  con- 
siderable sums.  Well,  no  matter!  Now  that 
I  have  fully  unbosomed  myself,  my  dear,  it  is 
your  turn." 

"All  right,  Uncle  Jachin."  Lucie  took 
a  large  morocco  case  from  the  chair  beside 
her,  and  extended  it.  "You  lent  me  these 
things  to  wear  last  night,  and  I— 

"No,  no,"  intervened  Fell.  "I  gave  them 
to  you,  my  dear — in  fact,  I  bought  them  for 
you  two  years  ago,  and  kept  them  until  now! 
You  have  worn  them;  they  are  yours,  and 
you  become  them  better  than  even  did  poor 
Queen  Hortense!  So  say  no  more.  I  trust 
that  Mrs.  Maillard  was  righteous  and  en- 
vious?" 

"She  was  disagreeable,"  said  Lucie.  She 
leaned  forward  and  imprinted  a  kiss  upon 
the  cheek  of  the  little  gray  man.  "There! 
that  is  all  the  thanks  I  can  give  you,  dear 


66     THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

uncle;  the  gift  makes  me  very  happy,  and  I'll 
not  pretend  otherwise.  Only,  I  feel  as  though 
I  had  no  right  to  wear  them — they're  so 
wonderful!" 

"Nonsense!  You  can  do  anything  you 
want  to,  as  Eliza  said  when  she  crossed  the 
ice.  But  all  this  isn't  why  you  summoned 
me  here,  you  bundle  of  mystery!  What 
bothered  you  last  night,  or  rather,  who?" 

Lucie  laughed.  "There  was  a  Franciscan 
who  tried  to  be  very  mysterious,  and  to  read 
my  mind.  He  talked  about  oil,  about  a 
grasping,  hard  man,  and  mentioned  you  as 
my  friend.  Then  he  warned  me  against  a  pro- 
posal that  Bob  might  make;  and  sure  enough, 
Bob  did  propose  to  buy  what  land  is  left  to 
me  on  Bayou  Terrebonne,  saying  he'd  per- 
suade his  oil  company  that  there  was  oil  on 
it,  and  that  they'd  buy  or  lease  it.  I  told 
him  no.  The  Franciscan,  afterward,  proved 
to  be  Henry  Gramont;  I  wondered  if  you  had 
mentioned — 

"Heaven  forbid!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Fell,  pi- 
ously. "I  never  even  met  Gramont  until 
last  night!  Do  you  like  him?" 

"Very  much."  The  girl's  eyes  met  his 
frankly.  "Do  you?" 


CALLERS  67 

"Very  much,"  said  Jachin  Fell. 

Lucie's  gray  eyes  narrowed,  searched  his 
face.  "I'm  almost  able  to  tell  when  you're 
lying,"  she  observed,  calmly.  "You  said 
that  a  trifle  too  hastily,  Uncle  Jachin.  Why 
don't  you  like  him?" 

Fell  laughed,  amused.  "Perhaps  I  have 
a  prejudice  against  foreign  nobles,  Lucie. 
Our  own  aristocracy  is  bad  enough,  but " 

"He's  discarded  all  that.  He  was  never 
French  except  in  name." 

"You  speak  as  though  you'd  known  him  for 
some  time.  Have  you  had  secrets  from  me?" 

"I  have!"  laughter  dimpled  in  the  girl's 
face.  "For  years  and  years!  When  I  was 
in  New  York  with  father,  before  the  war,  we 
met  him;  he  was  visiting  in  Newport  with 
college  friends.  Then,  you  know  that  father 
and  I  were  in  France  when  the  war  broke 
out — father  was  ill  and  almost  helpless  at 
the  time,  you  remember.  Gramont  came 
to  Paris  to  serve  with  his  regiment,  and  met 
us  there.  He  helped  us  get  away,  procured 
real  money  for  us,  got  us  passage  to  New 
York.  He  knows  lots  of  our  friends,  and 
I've  always  been  deeply  grateful  to  him  for 
his  assistance  then. 


68     THE  MARD1  GRAS  MYSTERY 

"We've  corresponded  quite  frequently  dur- 
ing the  war,"  she  pursued.  "I  mentioned 
him  several  times  after  we  got  home  from 
France,  but  you  probably  failed  to  notice 
the  name.  It's  only  since  he  came  to  New 
Orleans  that  I  really  kept  any  secrets  from 
you;  this  time,  I  wanted  to  find  out  if  you 
liked  him." 

Jachin  Fell  nodded  slowly.  His  face  was 
quite  innocent  of  expression. 

"Yes,  yes,"  he  said.  "Yes — of  course. 
He's  a  geologist  or  engineer,  I  think?" 

"Both,  and  a  good  one.  He's  a  stock- 
holder in  Bob  Maillard's  oil  company,  and  I 
think  he's  come  here  to  stay.  Well,  about 
last  night — he  probably  guessed  at  some  of 
my  private  affairs;  I've  written  or  spoken 
rather  frankly,  perhaps.  Also,  Bob  may 
have  blabbed  to  him.  Bob  still  drinks — 
prohibition  has  not  hit  him  very  hard!" 

"No,"  agreed  Fell,  gravely.  "Unfortu- 
nately, no.  Lucie,  I've  discovered  a  most 
important  fact.  Joseph  Maillard  did  not 
own  any  stock  in  the  Bayou  Oil  Company 
at  the  time  your  land  was  sold  them  by  him, 
and  he  had  no  interest  at  all  in  the  real  estate 
concern  that  bought  your  St.  Landry  swamp- 


CALLERS  69 

lands  and  made  a  fortune  off  them.  We 
have  really  blamed  him  most  unjustly." 

For  a  moment  there  was  silence  between 
them. 

"We  need  not  mince  matters,"  pursued 
Fell,  slowly.  "Maillard  has  no  scruples  and 
no  compassion;  all  the  same,  I  am  forced 
to  the  belief  that  he  has  maintained  your 
interest  uprightly,  and  that  his  mistakes 
were  only  errors.  I  do  not  believe  that  he 
has  profited  in  the  least  from  you.  Two  small 
fortunes  were  swept  out  of  your  grip  when  he 
sold  those  lands;  yet  they  had  been  worth- 
less, and  he  had  good  offers  for  them.  His 
investments  in  the  companies  concerned  were 
made  afterward,  and  I  am  certain  he  sold  the 
lands  innocently." 

Lucie  drew  a  deep  breath. 

"I  am  glad  you  have  said  this,"  she  re- 
turned, simply.  "It's  been  hard  for  me  to 
think  that  Uncle  Joseph  had  taken  advant- 
age of  me;  I  simply  couldn't  make  myself 
believe  it.  I  think  that  he  honestly  likes 
me,  as  far  as  he  permits  himself  to  like  any 
one." 

"He'd  not  loan  you  money  on  it,"  said 
Fell.  "Friendship  isn't  a  tangible  security 


70     THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

with  him.  And  a  girl  is  never  secure,  as 
Eliza  said  when  she  crossed  the  ice." 

"Well,  who  really  did  profit  by  my  loss? 
Any  one?" 

Fell's  pale  gray  eyes  twinkled,  then  cleared 
in  their  usually  wide  innocence. 

"My  dear  Lucie,  is  there  one  person  in 
this  world  to  whose  faults  Joseph  Maillard  is 
deliberately  blind — one  person  to  whose  in- 
fluence he  is  ever  open — one  person  to  whom 
he  would  refuse  nothing,  in  whom  he  would 
pardon  everything,  of  whom  he  would  never 
believe  any  evil  report?" 

"You  mean "  Lucie  drew  a  quick  breath, 

"Bob?" 

"Yes,  I  mean  Bob.  That  he  has  profited 
by  your  loss  I  am  not  yet  in  a  position  to 
say;  but  I  suspect  it.  He  has  his  father's 
cupidity  without  his  father's  sense  of  honour 
to  restrain  him.  When  I  have  finished  with 
the  Masquer,  I  shall  take  up  his  trail." 

Jachin  Fell  rose.  "Now  I  must  be  off, 
my  dear.  By  the  way,  if  I  have  need  of  you 
in  running  down  the  Masquer,  may  I  call 
upon  your  services?" 

"  Certainly !  I'd  love  to  help,  Uncle  Jachin ! 
We'd  be  real  detectives?" 


CALLERS  71 

"Almost."  Jachin  Fell  smiled  slightly. 
"Will  you  dine  with  us  to-morrow  evening, 
Lucie?  My  mother  commanded  me  to  bring 
you  as  soon  as  possible " 

"Oh,  your  mother!"  exclaimed  the  girl, 
contritely.  "I  was  so  absorbed  in  the  Mas- 
quer that  I  forgot  to  ask  after  her.  How  is 
she?" 

"Quite  as  usual,  thank  you.  I  presume 
that  you'll  attend  Comus  with  the  Mail- 
lards?" 

"Yes.  I'll  come  to-morrow  night  gladly, 
Uncle  Jachin." 

"And  we'll  take  a  look  at  the  Proteus  ball 
afterward,  if  you  like.  I'll  send  Ben  Cha- 
cherre  for  you  with  the  car,  if  you're  not 
afraid  of  him." 

Lucie  looked  gravely  into  the  smiling  eyes 
of  Fell. 

"I'm  not  exactly  afraid  of  him,"  she  re- 
sponded, soberly,  "but  there  is  something 
about  him  that  I  can't  like.  I'm  sorry  that 
you're  trying  to  regenerate  him,  in  a  way. " 

Fell  shrugged  lightly.  "All  life  is  an  effort, 
little  one!  Well,  good-bye." 

Jachin  Fell  left  the  house  at  three-forty. 
Twenty  minutes  later  the  bell  rang  again. 


72     THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

Lucie  sent  one  of  the  servants  to  admit  Henry 
Gramont;  she  kept  him  waiting  a  full  fifteen 
minutes  before  she  appeared,  and  then  she 
made  no  apologies  whatever  for  the  delay. 

Not  that  Gramont  minded  waiting;  he 
deemed  it  a  privilege  to  linger  in  this  house! 
He  loved  to  study  the  place,  so  reflective  of 
its  owner.  He  loved  the  white  Colonial  man- 
tel that  surrounded  the  fireplace,  perpetually 
alight,  with  its  gleaming  sheen  of  old  brasses, 
and  the  glittering  fire-set  to  one  side.  The 
very  air  of  the  place,  the  atmosphere  that  it 
breathed,  was  sweet  to  him. 

The  Napoleon  bed  that  filled  the  bow 
window,  with  its  pillows  and  soft  coverings; 
the  inlaid  walnut  cabinet  made  by  Sheraton, 
with  its  quaintly  curved  glasses  that  re- 
flected the  old-time  curios  within;  the  tilt 
tables,  the  rosewood  chairs,  the  rugs,  bought 
before  the  oriental  rug  market  was  flooded 
with  machine-made  Senna  knots — about 
everything  here  had  an  air  of  comfort,  of  long 
use,  of  restfulness.  It  was  not  the  sort  of 
place  built  up,  raw  item  by  raw  item,  by  the 
colour-frenzied  hands  of  decorators.  It  was 
the  sort  of  place  that  decorators  strive  des- 
perately to  imitate,  and  cannot. 


CALLERS  73 

When  Lucie  made  her  appearance,  Gra- 
mont  bent  over  her  hand  and  addressed  her 
in  French. 

"You  are  charming  as  ever,  Shining  One! 
And  in  years  to  come  you  will  be  still  more 
charming.  That  is  the  beauty  of  having  a 
name  taken  direct  from  the  classics  and  be- 
stowed as  a  good  fairy's  gift — 

"Thank  you,  monsieur — but  you  have 
translated  my  name  at  least  twenty  times, 
and  I  am  weary  of  hearing  it,"  responded 
Lucie,  laughingly. 

"Poor  taste,  mademoiselle,  to  grow  weary 
of  such  beauty!" 

"Not  of  the  name,  but  of  your  exegesis 
upon  it.  Why  should  I  not  be  displeased? 
Last  night  you  were  positively  rude,  and 
now  you  decry  my  taste!  Did  you  leave 
all  your  manners  in  France,  M.  le  prince?" 

"Some  of  them,  yes — and  all  that  prince 
stuff  with  them."  Smiling  as  he  dropped  into 
English,  Gramont  glanced  about  the  room, 
and  his  eyes  softened. 

"This  is  a  lovey  and  loveable  home  of 
yours,  Lucie!"  he  exclaimed,  gravely.  "So 
few  homes  are  worthy  the  name;  so  few  have 
in  them  the  intimate  air  of  use  and  friend- 


74     THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

liness — why  are  so  many  furnished  from 
bargain  sales?  This  place  is  touched  with 
repose  and  sweetness;  to  come  and  sit  here 
is  a  privilege.  It  is  like  being  in  another 
world,  after  all  the  money  striving  and  the 
dollar  madness  of  the  city." 

"Oh!"  The  girl's  gaze  searched  him 
curiously.  "I  hope  you're  not  going  to  take 
the  fine  artistic  pose  that  it  is  a  crime  to 
make  money?" 

Gramont  laughed. 

"Not  much!  I  want  to  make  money 
myself;  that's  one  reason  I'm  in  New  Orleans. 
Still,  you  cannot  deny  that  there  is  a  craze 
about  the  eternal  clutching  after  dollars.  I 
can't  make  the  dollar  sign  the  big  thing  in 
life,  Lucie.  You  couldn't,  either." 

She  frowned  a  little. 

"You  seem  to  have  the  European  notion 
that  all  Americans  are  dollar  chasers!" 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders  slightly.  His 
harshly  lined  face  was  very  strong;  one 
sensed  that  its  harshness  had  come  from  the 
outside — from  hunger,  from  hardship  and 
privations,  from  suffering  strongly  borne.  He 
had  not  gone  through  the  war  unscathed, 
this  young  man  who  had  tossed  away  a 


CALLERS  75 

princely  "de"  in  order  to  become  plain 
Henry  Gramont,  American  citizen. 

"In  a  sense,  yes;  why  not?"  he  answered. 
"I  am  an  American.  I  am  a  dollar  chaser, 
and  not  ashamed  of  it.  I  am  going  into 
business  here.  Once  it  is  a  success,  I  shall  go 
on;  I  shall  see  America,  I  shall  come  to  know 
this  whole  country  of  mine,  all  of  it!  I  have 
been  a  month  in  New  Orleans — do  you  know, 
a  strange  thing  happened  to  me  only  a  few 
days  after  I  arrived  here!" 

With  her  eyes  she  urged  him  on,  and  he 
continued  gravely: 

"In  France  I  met  a  man,  an  American 
sergeant  named  Hammond.  It  was  just  at 
the  close  of  things.  We  had  adjoining  cots 
at  Nice— 

"Ah!"  she  exclaimed,  quickly.  "I  remem- 
ber, you  wrote  about  him — the  man  who 
had  been  wounded  in  both  legs!  Did  he  get 
well?  You  never  said." 

"I  never  knew  until  I  came  here,"  answered 
Gramont.  "One  night,  not  long  after  I  had 
got  established  in  my  pension  on  Burgundy 
Street,  a  man  tried  to  rob  me.  It  was  this 
same  man,  Hammond;  we  recognized  each 
other  almost  at  once. 


76     THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

"I  took  him  home  with  me  and  learned  his 
story.  He  had  come  back  to  America  only 
to  find  his  wife  dead  from  influenza,  his  home 
broken  up,  his  future  destroyed.  He  drifted 
to  New  Orleans,  careless  of  what  happened  to 
him.  He  flung  himself  desperately  into  a 
career  of  burglary  and  pillage.  Well,  I  gave 
Hammond  a  job;  he  is  my  chauffeur.  You 
would  never  recognize  him  as  the  same  man 
now!  I  am  very  proud  of  his  friendship." 

"That  was  well  said."  Lucie  nodded  her 
head  quickly.  "I  shan't  call  you  M.  Le 
prince  any  more — unless  you  offend  again." 

He  smiled,  reading  her  thought.  "I  try 
not  to  be  a  snob,  eh?  Well,  what  I'm  driving 
at  is  this:  I  want  to  know  this  country  of 
mine,  to  see  it  with  clear,  unprejudiced  eyes. 
We  hide  our  real  shames  and  exalt  our  false 
ones.  Why  should  we  be  ashamed  of  chasing 
the  dollar?  So  long  as  that  is  a  means  to  the 
end  of  happiness,  it's  all  right.  But  there  are 
some  men  who  see  it  as  an  end  alone,  who  can 
set  no  finis  to  their  work  except  the  dollar 
dropping  into  their  pouch.  Such  a  man  is 
your  relative,  Joseph  Maillard — I  say  it 
without  offence." 

Lucie  nodded,  realizing  that  he  was  driv- 


CALLERS  77 

ing  at  some  deeper  thing,  and  held  her 
peace. 

"You  realize  the  fact,  eh?"  Gramont  smiled 
faintly.  "I  do  not  wish  to  offend  you,  and 
I  shall  therefore  refrain  from  saying  all 
that  is  in  my  mind.  But  you  have  not 
hesitated  to  intimate  very  frankly  that  you 
are  not  wealthy.  Some  time  ago,  if  you 
recall,  you  wrote  me  how  you  had  just  missed 
wealth  through  having  sold  some  land.  I 
have  taken  the  liberty  of  looking  up  that 
deal  to  some  extent,  and  I  have  suspected 
that  your  uncle  had  some  interest  in  putting 
the  sale  through " 

The  gray  eyes  of  the  girl  flashed  suddenly. 

"Henry  Gramont!  Are  my  family  affairs 
to  be  an  open  book  to  the  world?"  A  slight 
flush,  perhaps  of  anger,  perhaps  of  some 
other  emotion,  rose  in  the  girl's  cheeks.  "Do 
you  realize  that  you  are  intruding  most  un- 
warrantably into  my  private  matters?" 

"Unwarrantably?"  Gramont 's  eyes  held 
her  gaze  steadily.  "Do  you  really  mean  to 
use  that  word?" 

"I  do,  most  certainly!"  answered  Lucie 
with  spirit.  "I  don't  think  you  realize  just 
what  the  whole  thing  tends  toward " 


78     THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

"Oh,  yes  I  do!  Quite  clearly."  Gra- 
mont's  cool,  level  tone  conquered  her  in- 
dignation. "I  see  that  you  are  orphaned, 
and  that  your  uncle  was  your  guardian,  and 
executed  questionable  deals  which  lost  money 
for  you.  Come,  that's  brutally  frank — but 
it's  true!  We  are  friends  of  long  standing; 
not  intimate  friends,  perhaps,  and  yet  I 
think  very  good  friends.  I  am  most  cer- 
tainly not  ashamed  to  say  that  when  I  had 
the  occasion  to  look  out  for  your  interests 
I  was  very  glad  of  the  chance." 

Gramont  paused,  but  she  did  not  speak. 
He  continued  after  a  moment : 

"You  had  intimated  to  me,  perhaps  with- 
out meaning  to  do  so,  something  of  the 
situation.  I  came  here  to  New  Orleans  and 
became  involved  in  some  dealings  with  your 
cousin,  Bob  Maillard.  I  believed,  and  I 
believe  now,  that  in  your  heart  you  have  some 
suspicion  of  your  uncle  in  regard  to  those 
transactions  in  land.  Therefore,  I  took  the 
trouble  to  look  into  the  thing  to  a  slight  extent. 
Shall  I  tell  you  what  I  have  discovered?" 

Lucie  Ledanois  gazed  at  him,  her  lips  com- 
pressed. She  liked  this  new  manner  of  his, 
this  firm  and  resolute  gravity,  this  harshness. 


CALLERS  79 

It  brought  out  his  underlying  character  very 
well. 

"If  you  please,  Henry,"  she  murmured 
very  meekly.  "Since  you  have  thrust  your- 
self into  my  private  affairs,  I  think  I  should 
at  least  get  whatever  benefit  I  can ! " 

"Exactly.  Why  not?"  He  made  a  grave 
gesture  of  assent.  "Well,  then,  I  have  dis- 
covered that  your  uncle  appears  to  be  honestly 
at  fault  in  the  matter — 

"Thanks  for  this  approval  of  my  family," 
she  murmured. 

"And,"  continued  Gramont,  imperturbably, 
"that  your  suspicions  of  him  were  groundless. 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  something  new  has 
turned  up  about  which  I  wish  to  speak — but 
about  which  I  must  speak  delicately." 

"Be  frank,  my  dear  Henry — even  brutal! 
Speak,  by  all  means." 

"Very  well.  Has  Bob  Maillard  offered  to 
buy  your  remaining  land  on  the  Bayou 
Terrebonne?" 

She  started  slightly.  So  it  was  to  this  that 
he  had  been  leading  up  all  the  while! 

"He  broached  the  subject  last  night,"  she 
answered.  "I  dismissed  it  for  the  time." 

"Good!"  he  exclaimed  with  boyish  vigour. 


80     THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

"Good!  I  warned  you  in  time,  then !  If  you 
will  permit  me,  I  must  advise  you  not  to 
part  with  that  land — not  even  for  a  good 
offer.  This  week,  immediately  Mardi  Gras 
is  over,  I  am  going  to  inspect  that  land  for  the 
company;  it  is  Bob  Maillard's  company,  you 
know. 

"If  there's  any  chance  of  finding  oil  there, 
I  shall  first  see  you,  then  advise  the  company. 
You  can  hold  out  for  your  fair  share  of  the 
mineral  rights,  instead  of  selling  the  whole 
thing.  You'll  get  it!  Landowners  around 
here  are  not  yet  wise  to  the  oil  game,  but 
they'll  soon  learn." 

"You  would  betray  your  business  associ- 
ates to  help  me?"  she  asked,  curious  to  hear 
his  reply.  A  slow  flush  crept  into  his  cheeks. 

"Certainly  not!  But  I  would  not  betray 
'you  to  help  my  business  friends.  Is  my  un- 
warrantable intrusion  forgiven?" 

She  nodded  brightly.  "You  are  put  on 
probation,  sir.  You're  in  Bob's  company?" 

"Yes."  Gramont  frowned.  "I  invested 
perhaps  too  hastily — but  no  matter  now.  I 
have  the  car  outside,  Lucie;  may  I  have  the 
pleasure  of  taking  you  driving?" 

"Did  you  bring  that  chauffeur?" 


CALLERS  81 

"Yes,"  and  he  laughed  at  her  eagerness. 

"Good!  I  accept — because  I  must  see  that 
famous  soldier-bandit-chauffeur.  If  you'll 
wait,  I'll  be  ready  in  a  minute." 

She  hurried  from  the  room,  a  snatch  of  song 
on  her  lips.  Gramont  smiled  as  he  waited. 


CHAPTER  V 
The  Masquer  Unmasks 

IN  NEW  ORLEANS  one  may  find  pensions 
in  the  old  quarter — the  quarter  which  is 
still  instinct  with  the  pulse  of  old-world 
life.  These  pensions  do  not  advertise.  The 
average  tourist  knows  nothing  of  them.  Even 
if  he  knew,  indeed,  he  might  have  some 
difficulty  in  obtaining  accommodations,  for 
it  is  not  nearly  enough  to  have  the  money; 
one  must  also  have  the  introductions,  come 
well  recommended,  and  be  under  the  tongue 
of  good  repute. 

Gramont  had  obtained  a  small  apartment 
en  pension — a  quiet  and  severely  retired  house 
in  Burgundy  Street,  maintained  by  a  very 
proud  old  lady  whose  ancestors  had  come 
out  of  Canada  with  the  Sieur  d'Iberville. 
Here  Gramont  lived  with  Hammond, quite  on  a 
basis  of  equality,  and  they  were  very  comfort- 
able. 

The  two  men  sat  smoking  their  pipes  before 


THE  MASQUER  UNMASKS        83 

the  fireplace,  in  which  blazed  a  small  fire — 
more  for  good  cheer  than  through  necessity. 
It  was  Sunday  evening.  Between  Gramont 
and  Hammond  had  arisen  a  discussion  re- 
garding their  relations — a  discussion  which 
was  perhaps  justified  by  Gramont's  quixotic 
laying  down  of  the  law. 

"It's  all  very  well,  Hammond,"  he  mused, 
"to  follow  custom  and  precedent,  to  present 
to  the  world  a  front  which  will  not  shock  its 
proprieties,  its  sense  of  tradition  and  fitness. 
In  the  world's  eye  you  are  my  chauffeur. 
But  when  we're  alone  together — nonsense!" 

"That's  all  right,  cap'n,"  said  Hammond, 
shrewdly.  To  him,  Gramont  was  always 
"cap'n"  and  nothing  else.  "But  you  know's 
well  as  I  do  it  can't  go  on  forever.  I'm 
workin'  for  you,  and  that's  the  size  of  it.  I 
ain't  got  the  education  to  stack  up  alongside 
of  you.  I  don't  want  you  to  get  the  notion 
that  I'm  figuring  on  takin'  advantage  of 
you- 

"Bosh!  I  suppose  some  day  I'll  be 
wealthy,  married,  and  bound  in  the  chains  of 
social  usage  and  custom,"  said  Gramont, 
energetically.  "But  that  day  isn't  here  yet. 
If  you  think  I'll  accept  deference  and  servility 


84     THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

from  any  man  who  has  endured  the  same 
hunger  and  cold  and  wounds  that  I  endured 
in  France — then  guess  again!  We're  friends 
in  a  democracy  of  Americans.  You're  just  as 
good  a  man  as  I  am,  and  vice  versa.  Besides, 
aren't  we  fellow  criminals?" 

Hammond  grinned  at  this.  There  was  no 
lack  of  shrewd  intelligence  in  his  broad  and 
powerful  features,  which  were  crowned  by  a 
rim  of  reddish  hair. 

"All  that  line  o'  bull  sounds  good,  cap'n, 
only  it's  away  off,"  he  returned.  "Trouble 
with  you  is,  you  ain't  forgot  the  war  yet." 

"I  never  will,"  said  Gramont,  his  face 
darkening. 

"Sure  you  will!  We  all  will.  And  you 
ain't  as  used  to  this  country  as  I  am,  either. 
I've  seen  too  much  of  it.  You  ain't  seen 
enough." 

"I've  seen  enough  to  know  that  it's  my 
country." 

"Right.  But  I  ain't  as  good  a  man  as  you 
are,  not  by  a  long  shot!"  said  Hammond, 
cheerfully.  "You  proved  that  the  night  you 
caught  me  comin'  into  the  window  at  the 
Lavergne  house.  You  licked  me  without 
half  try  in',  cap'n! 


THE  MASQUER  UNMASKS        85 

"Anyhow,"  pursued  Hammond,  "America 
ain't  a  democracy,  unless  you're  runnin'  for 
Congress.  It  sounds  good  to  the  farmers, 
but  wait  till  you've  been  here  long  enough  to 
get  out  of  your  fine  notions!  Limousines 
and  money  ain't  got  much  use  for  democracy. 
The  men  who  have  brains,  like  you,  always 
will  give  orders,  I  reckon." 

"Bosh!"  said  Gramont  again.  "It  isn't  a 
question  of  having  brains.  It's  a  question  of 
knowing  what  to  do  with  them.  All  men 
are  born  free  and  equal— 

"Not  much!"  retorted  the  other  with 
conviction.  "All  men  were  born  free,  but 
mighty  few  were  born  equal,  cap'n.  That 
sort  o'  talk  sounds  good  in  the  newspapers, 
but  it  don't  go  very  far  with  the  guy  at  the 
bottom,  nor  the  top,  either!" 

Gramont  stared  into  the  flickering  fire  and 
sucked  at  his  pipe.  He  realized  that  in  a 
sense  Hammond  was  quite  correct  in  his 
argument;  nonetheless,  he  looked  on  the 
other  man  as  a  comrade,  and  always  would 
do  so.  It  was  true  that  he  had  not  forgotten 
the  war.  Suddenly  he  roused  himself  and 
shot  a  glance  at  Hammond. 

"Sergeant!    You   seem  to  have  a  pretty 


86     THE  MARD1  GRAS  MYSTERY 

good  recollection  of  that  night  at  the  Lavergne 
house,  when  I  found  you  entering  and  jumped 
on  you.'* 

"You  bet  I  have!"  Hammond  chuckled. 
"When  you'd  knocked  the  goggles  off  me  and 
we  recognized  each  other — hell!  I  felt  like  a 
boob." 

Gramont  smiled.  "How  many  places  had 
you  robbed  up  to  then?  Three,  wasn't  it?" 

"Three  is  right,  cap'n,"  was  the  unashamed 
response. 

"We  haven't  referred  to  it  very  often,  but 
now  things  have  happened."  Gramont 's  face 
took  on  harsh  lines  of  determination.  "Do 
you  know,  it  was  a  lucky  thing  that  you  had 
no  chance  to  dispose  of  the  jewels  and  money 
you  obtained?  But  I  suppose  you  didn't 
call  it  good  luck  at  the  time." 

"No  chance?"  snorted  the  other.  "No 
chance  is  right,  cap'n!  And  I  was  sore,  too. 
Say,  they  got  a  ring  of  crooks  around  this 
town  you  couldn't  bust  into  with  grenades! 
I  couldn't  figure  it  out  for  a  while,  but  only  the 
other  day  I  got  the  answer.  Listen  here,  and 
I'll  tell  you  something  big." 

Hammond  leaned  forward,  lowered  his 
voice,  and  tamped  at  his  pipe. 


THE  MASQUER  UNMASKS        87 

"When  I  was  a  young  fellow  I  lived  in  a 
little  town  up  North — I  ain't  sayin'  where. 
My  old  man  had  a  livery  stable  there,  see? 
Well,  one  night  a  guy  come  along  and  got  the 
old  man  out  of  bed,  and  slips  him  fifteen 
hundred  for  a  rig  and  a  team,  see?  I  drove 
the  guy  ten  miles  through  the  hills,  and  set 
him  on  a  road  he  wanted  to  find. 

"  Now,  that  guy  was  the  biggest  crook  in  the 
country  in  them  days — still  is,  I  guess.  He  was 
on  the  dead  run  that  night,  to  keep  out  o' 
Leavenworth.  He  kep '  out,  all  right,  and  he's 
settin'  in  the  game  to  this  minute.  Nobody 
never  pinched  him  yet,  and  never  will." 

Gramont's  face  had  tensed  oddly  as  he 
listened.  Now  he  shot  out  a  single  word: 

"Why?" 

"Because  his  gang  runs  back  to  politicians 
and  rich  guys  all  over  the  country.  You  ask 
anybody  on  the  inside  if  they  ever  heard  of 
Memphis  Izzy  Gumberts!  Well,  cap'n,  I 
seen  that  very  identical  guy  on  the  street  the 
other  day — I  never  could  forget  his  ugly 
mug!  And  where  he  is,  no  outside  crooks 
can  get  in,  you  believe  me!" 

"Hm!  Memphis  Izzy  Gumberts,  eh? 
What  kind  of  a  crook  is  he,  sergeant?" 


88     THE  MARD1  GRAS  MYSTERY 

"The  big  kind.  You  remember  them 
Chicago  lotteries?  But  you  don't,  o'  course. 
Well,  that's  his  game — lotteries  and  such 
like." 

Gramont's  lips  clenched  for  a  minute,  then 
he  spoke  with  slow  distinctness: 

"Sergeant,  I'd  have  given  five  hundred 
dollars  for  that  informatiou  a  week  ago!" 

"Why?"  Hammond  stared  at  him  sud- 
denly. Gramont  shook  his  head. 

"Never  mind.  Forget  it!  Now,  this  stunt 
of  yours  was  clever.  You  showed  brains 
when  you  got  yourself  up  as  an  aviator  and 
pulled  that  stuff,  sergeant.  But  you  handled 
it  brutally — terribly  brutally." 

"It  was  a  little  raw,  I  guess,"  conceded 
Hammond.  "I  was  up  against  it,  that's  all — 
I  figured  they'd  pinch  me  sooner  or  later,  but 
I  didn't  care,  and  that's  the  truth!  I  was 
out  for  the  coin. 

"When  you  took  over  the  costume  and 
began  to  get  across  with  the  Raffles  stuff — 
why,  it  was  a  pipe  for  you,  cap'n!  Look 
what  we've  done  in  a  month.  Six  jobs, 
every  one  running  off  smooth  as  glass !  Your 
notion  of  going  to  parties  ready  dressed 
with  some  kind  of  loose  robe  over  the  flyin' 


THE  MASQUER  UNMASKS       89 

duds  was  a  scream!  And  then  me  running 
that  motor  with  the  cutout  on — all  them 
birds  that  never  heard  an  airplane  think  you 
come  and  go  by  air,  for  certain!  I  will  say 
that  I  ain't  on  to  why  you're  doing  it;  just 
the  same,  you've  got  them  all  fooled,  and  I 
ain't  worried  a  particle  about  the  cops  or  the 
crooks,  either  one.  But  watch  out  for  the 
Gumberts  crowd!  They're  liable  to  show 
us  up  to  the  bulls,  simply  because  we  ain't  in 
with  'em.  Nobody  else  will  ever  find  us 
out." 

Gramont  nodded  thoughtfully. 

"Yes?  But,  sergeant,  how  about  the  quiet 
little  man  who  came  along  last  night  at  the 
Maillard  house  and  asked  about  the  car? 
Perhaps  he  had  discovered  you  had  been 
running  the  engine." 

"Him?"  Hammond  sniffed  in  scorn.  "He 
wasn't  no  dick." 

"Well,  I  was  followed  to-day;  at  least,  I 
think  I  was.  I  could  spot  nobody  after  me, 
but  I  felt  certain  of  it.  And  let  me  tell  you 
something  about  that  same  quiet  little  man! 
His  name  is  Jachin  Fell." 

"Heluva  name,"  commented  Hammond, 
and  wrinkled  up  his  brow.  "Jachin,  huh? 


90     THE  MARD1  GRAS  MYSTERY 

Seems  like  I've  heard  the  name  before.  Out 
o'  the  Bible,  ain't  it?  Something  about 
Jachin  and  Boaz?" 

"I  imagine  so."  Gramont  smiled  as  he 
replied.  "Fell  is  a  lawyer,  but  he  never 
practises  law.  He's  rich,  he's  a  very  fine 
chess  player — and  probably  the  smartest 
man  in  New  Orleans,  sergeant.  Just  what 
he  does  I  don't  know;  no  one  does.  I  im- 
agine that  he's  one  of  those  quiet  men  who 
stay  in  the  backgrounds  of  city  politics  and 
pull  the  strings.  You  know,  one  administra- 
tion has  been  in  power  here  for  nearly 
twenty  years — it's  something  to  make  a  man 
stop  and  think! 

"This  chap  Fell  is  sharp,  confoundedly 
sharp!"  went  on  Gramont,  while  the  chauf- 
feur listened  with  frowning  intentness.  "He's 
altogether  too  sharp  to  be  a  criminal — or 
I'd  suspect  that  he  was  using  his  knowledge 
of  the  law  to  beat  the  law.  Well,  I  think 
that  he  is  on  to  me,  and  is  trying  to  get  the 
goods  on  me." 

"Oh!"  said  Hammond.  "And  someone 
was  trailin'  you?  Think  he's  put  the  bulls 
wise?" 

Gramont  shrugged  his  shoulders.     "I  don't 


THE  MASQUER  UNMASKS        91 

know.  He  almost  caught  me  last  night. 
We'll  have  to  get  rid  of  that  aviator's  suit  at 
once,  and  of  the  loot  also.  I  suppose  you've 
reconciled  yourself  to  returning  the  stuff?  " 

Hammond  stirred  uneasily,  and  laid  down 
his  pipe. 

"Look  here,  cap'n,"  he  said,  earnestly. 
"I  wasn't  runnin'  a  holdup  game  because  I 
liked  it,  and  I  wasn't  doing  it  for  the  fun  of 
the  thing,  like  you  are.  I  was  dead  broke,  I 
hadn't  any  hope  left,  and  I  didn't  care  a 
damn  whether  I  lived  or  died — that's  on  the 
dead!  Right  there,  you  come  along  and 
picked  me  up. 

"You  give  me  a  job.  What's  more,  you've 
treated  me  white,  cap'n.  I  guess  you  seen 
that  I  was  just  a  man  with  the  devil  at  his 
heels,  and  you  chased  the  devil  off.  You've 
given  me  something  decent  to  live  for — to 
make  good  because  you  got  some  faith  in  me ! 
Why,  when  you  went  out  on  that  first  job  of 
ours,  d'you  know  it  like  to  broke  me  up?  It 
did.  Only,  when  we  got  home  that  night  and 
you  said  it  was  all  a  joke,  and  you'd  send 
back  the  loot  later  on,  then  I  begun  to  feel 
better  about  it.  Even  if  you'd  gone  into  it 
as  a  reg'lar  business,  I'd  have  stuck  with  you 


92     THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

— but  I  was  darned  glad  about  its  bein'  a 
joke!" 

Gramont  nodded  in  comprehension  of  the 
other's  feeling. 

"It's  not  been  altogether  a  joke,  sergeant," 
he  said,  gravely.  "To  tell  the  truth,  I  did 
start  it  as  a  joke,  but  soon  afterward  I  learned 
something  that  led  me  to  keep  it  up.  I 
kept  it  up  until  I  could  hit  the  Maillard  house. 
It  was  my  intention  to  turn  up  at  the  Comus 
ball,  on  Tuesday  night,  and  there  make  public 
restitution  of  the  stuff — but  that's  impossible 
now.  I  dare  not  risk  it !  That  man  Fell  is  too 
smart." 

"You're  not  goin'  to  pull  the  trick  again, 
then?"  queried  Hammond,  eagerly. 

"No.  I'm  through.  I've  got  what  I 
wanted.  Still,  I  don't  wish  to  return  the 
stuff  before  Wednesday — Ash  Wednesday, 
the  end  of  the  carnival  season.  Suppose  you 
get  out  the  loot  and  find  me  some  boxes. 
And  be  sure  they  have  no  name  on  them  or 
any  store  labels." 

Hammond  leaped  up  and  vanished  in  the 
room  adjoining.  Presently  he  returned,  bear- 
ing several  cardboard  boxes  which  he  dumped 
on  the  centre  table.  Gramont  examined  them 


THE  MASQUER  UNMASKS        93 

closely,  and  laid  aside  a  number  that  were  best 
suited  to  his  purpose.  Meantime,  the  chauf- 
feur was  opening  a  steamer  trunk  which  he 
pulled  from  under  the  bed. 

"I'm  blamed  glad  you're  done,  believe 
me!"  he  uttered,  fervently,  glancing  up  at 
Gramont.  "Par's  I'm  concerned  I  don't 
care  much,  but  I'd  sure  hate  to  see  the  bulls 
turn  in  a  guy  like  you,  cap'n.  You  couldn't 
ever  persuade  anybody  that  it  was  all  a  joke, 
neither,  once  they  nabbed  you.  They're  a 
bad  bunch  o'  bulls  in  this  town — it  ain't  like 
Chi  or  other  places,  where  you  can  stand  in 
right  and  do  a  bit  o'  fixing." 

"You  seem  to  know  the  game  pretty  well," 
and  Gramont  smiled  amusedly. 

"Ain't  I  been  a  chauffeur  and  garage 
man?"  retorted  Hammond,  as  though  this 
explained  much.  "If  there's  anything  us 
guys  don't  run  up  against,  you  can't  name 
it!  Here  we  are.  Want  me  to  keep  each 
bunch  separate,  don't  you?" 

"Sure.  I'll  be  writing  some  notes  to  go 
inside." 

Gramont  went  to  a  buhl  writing  desk  in  the 
corner  of  the  room,  and  sat  down.  He  took 
out  his  notebook,  tore  off  several  sheets,  and 


94     THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

from  his  pocket  produced  a  pencil  having  an 
extremely  hard  lead.  He  wrote  a  number  of 
notes,  which,  except  for  the  addresses,  were 
identical  in  content: 

DEAR  SIR: 

I  enclose  herewith  certain  jewellery  and  articles,  also 
currency,  recently  obtained  by  me  under  your  kind 
auspices. 

I  trust  that  you  will  assume  the  responsibility  of 
returning  these  things  to  the  various  guests  who  lost 
them  while  under  your  roof.  I  regret  any  discomfort 
occasioned  by  my  taking  them  as  a  loan,  which  I  now 
return.  Please  convey  to  the  several  owners  my  pro- 
found esteem  and  my  assurance  that  I  shall  not  in  future 
appear  to  trouble  any  one,  the  carnival  season  having 
come  to  an  end,  and  with  it  my  little  jest. 

THE  MIDNIGHT  MASQUER. 

Gathering  up  these  notes  in  his  hand, 
Gramont  went  to  the  fireplace.  He  tossed 
the  pencil  into  the  fire,  following  it  with  the 
notebook. 

"Can't  take  chances  with  that  man  Fell," 
he  explained.  "All  ready,  sergeant.  Let's 
go  down  the  list  one  by  one." 

From  the  trunk  Hammond  produced  tick- 
eted packages,  which  he  placed  on  the  table. 
Gramont  selected  one,  opened  it,  carefully 


THE  MASQUER  UNMASKS        95 

packed  the  contents  in  one  of  the  boxes, 
placed  the  proper  addressed  note  on  top,  and 
handed  it  to  the  chauffeur. 

"Wrap  it  up  and  address  it.  Give  the 
return  address  of  John  Smith,  Bayou  Teche." 

One  by  one  they  went  through  the  packages 
of  loot  in  the  same  manner.  Before  them  on 
the  table,  as  they  worked,  glittered  little 
heaps  of  rings,  brooches,  watches,  currency; 
jewels  that  flashed  garishly  with  coloured 
fires,  historic  and  famous  jewels  plucked 
from  the  aristocratic  heart  of  the  southland, 
heirlooms  of  a  past  generation  side  by  side 
with  platinum  crudities  of  the  present  fashion. 

There  had  been  heartburnings  in  the  loss  of 
these  things,  Gramont  knew.  He  could  pic- 
ture to  himself  something  of  what  had  followed 
his  robberies:  family  quarrels,  new  purchases 
in  the  gem  marts,  bitter  reproaches,  fresh 
mortgages  on  old  heritages,  vexations  of 
wealthy  dowagers,  shrugs  of  unconcern  by 
the  nouveaux  riches;  perchance  lives  altered — 
deaths — divorces 

"There's  a  lot  of  human  life  behind  these 
baubles,  sergeant,"  he  reflected  aloud,  a  cold 
smile  upon  his  lips  as  he  worked.  "When 
they  come  back  to  their  owners,  I'd  like  to  be 


96     THE  MARD1  GRAS  MYSTERY 

hovering  around  in  an  invisible  mantle  to 
watch  results!  Could  we  only  know  it, 
we're  probably  affecting  the  lives  of  a  great 
many  people — for  good  and  ill.  These  things 
stand  for  money;  and  there's  nothing  like 
money,"  or  the  lack  of  it,  to  guide  the  destinies 
of  people." 

"You  said  it,"  and  Hammond  grinned. 
"I'm  here  to  prove  it,  ain't  I?  I  ain't  pulling 
no  more  gunplay,  now  I  got  me  a  steady 
job." 

"And  a  steady  friend,  old  man,"  added 
Gramont.  "Did  it  occur  to  you  that  maybe 
I  was  as  much  in  need  of  a  friend  as  you 
were?" 

He  had  come  to  the  last  box  now,  that 
which  must  go  to  Joseph  Maillard.  On  top 
of  the  money  and  scarfpins  which  he  placed 
in  the  box  he  laid  a  thin  packet  of  papers. 
He  tapped  them  with  his  finger. 

"Those  papers,  sergeant!  To  get  them, 
I've  been  playing  the  whole  game.  To  get 
them  and  not  to  let  their  owner  suspect  that 
I  was  after  them!  Now  they're  going  back 
to  their  owner." 

"Who's  he?"  demanded  Hammond. 

"Young  Maillard — son  of  the  banker.     He 


THE  MASQUER  UNMASKS       97 

roped  me  into  an  oil  company;  caught  me, 
like  a  sucker,  almost  the  first  week  I  was  here. 
I  put  pretty  near  my  whole  wad  into  that 
company  of  his." 

"You  mean  he  stung  you?" 

"Not  yet."  Gramont  smiled  coldly, 
harshly.  ' '  That  was  his  intention ;  he  thought 
I  was  a  Frenchman  who  would  fall  for  any 
sort  of  game.  I  fell  right  enough — but  I'll 
come  out  on  top  of  the  heap." 

The  other  frowned.  "I  don't  get  you, 
cap'n.  Some  kind  o'  stock  deal?" 

"Yes,  and  no."  Gramont  paused,  and 
seemed  to  choose  his  words  with  care.  "Miss 
Ledanois,  the  lady  who  was  driving  with  us 
this  afternoon,  is  an  old  friend  of  mine.  I've 
known  for  some  time  that  somebody  was 
fleecing  her.  I  suspected  that  it  was  Mail- 
lard  the  elder,  for  he  has  had  the  handling  of 
her  affairs  for  some  time  past.  Now,  how- 
ever, those  papers  have  given  me  the  truth. 
He  was  straight  enough  with  her;  his  son  was 
the  man. 

"The  young  fool  imagines  that  by  trickery 
and  juggling  he  is  playing  the  game  of  high 
finance!  He  worked  on  his  father,  made  his 
father  sell  land  owned  by  Miss  Ledanois,  and 


98     THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

he  himself  reaped  the  profits.  There  are 
notes  and  stock  issues  among  those  papers 
that  give  his  whole  game  away,  to  my  eyes. 
Not  legal  evidence,  as  I  had  hoped,  but 
evidence  enough  to  show  me  the  truth  of 
things — to  show  me  that  he's  a  scoundrel! 
Further,  they  bear  on  my  own  case,  and  I'm 
satisfied  now  that  I'd  be  ruined  if  I  stayed 
with  him." 

"Well,  that's  easy  settled,"  said  Ham- 
mond. "Just  hold  him  up  with  them  papers 
— make  him  come  across!" 

"I'm  not  in  that  sort  of  business.  I  stole 
those  papers,  not  to  use  them  for  blackmail, 
but  to  get  information.  By  the  way,  get  that 
tin  box  out  of  my  trunk,  will  you?  I  want  to 
take  my  stock  certificates  with  me  in  the 
morning,  and  must  not  forget  them." 

Hammond  disappeared  into  the  adjoining 
room. 

Gramont  sat  gazing  at  the  boxes  before 
him.  Despite  his  words  to  Hammond, 
there  was  a  fund  of  puzzled  displeasure  in  his 
eyes,  sheer  dissatisfaction.  He  shook  his 
head  gloomily,  and  his  eyes  clouded. 

"All  wasted — the  whole  effort!"  he  mur- 
mured. "I  thought  it  might  lead  to  some- 


THE  MASQUER  UNMASKS        99 

thing,  but  all  it  has  given  me  is  the  reward  of 
saving  myself  and  possibly  retrieving  Lucie. 
As  for  the  larger  game,  the  bigger  quarry — 
it's  all  wasted.  I  haven't  unravelled  a  single 
thread;  the  first  real  clue  came  to  me  to- 
night, purely  by  accident.  Memphis  Izzy 
Gumberts!  That's  the  lead  to  follow!  I'll 
get  rid  of  this  Midnight  Masquer  foolishness 
and  go  after  the  real  game." 

Gramont  was  to  discover  that  it  is  not 
nearly  so  easy  to  be  rid  of  folly  as  it  is  to  don 
the  jester's  cap  and  bells;  a  fact  which  one 
Simplicissimus  had  discovered  to  his  sorrow 
three  hundered  years  earlier.  But,  as  Gra- 
mont was  not  versed  in  this  line  of  literature, 
he  yet  had  the  discovery  ahead  of  him. 

Hammond  reentered  the  room  with  the 
tin  box,  from  which  Gramont  took  his  stock 
certificates  issued  by  Bob  Maillard's  oil  com- 
pany. He  pocketed  the  shares. 

"Does  this  here  Miss  Ledanois,"  asked 
Hammond,  "play  in  with  you  in  the  game? 
Young  Maillard's  related  to  her,  ain't  he?" 

"She's  quite  aware  of  his  drawbacks,  I 
think,"  answered  Gramont,  drily. 

"I  see."  Hammond  rubbed  his  chin,  and 
inspected  his  employer  with  a  twinkle  denot- 


100  THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

ing  perfect  comprehension.  "Well,  how 
d'you  expect  to  come  out  on  top  of  the  heap?  " 

"I  want  to  get  my  own  money  back," 
explained  Gramont.  "You  see,  young 
Maillard  thinks  that  he's  cleaned  me  up 
fine.  I've  invested  heavily  in  his  company, 
which  has  a  couple  of  small  wells  already 
going.  As  I  conceive  the  probable  scheme, 
this  company  is  scheduled  to  fail,  and  another 
company  will  take  over  the  stock  at  next  to 
nothing.  Maillard  will  be  the  other  com- 
pany; his  present  associates  will  be  the 
suckers!  It's  that,  or  some  similar  trick. 
I'm  no  longer  interested  in  the  affair." 

"Why  not,  if  you  got  money  in  it?" 

"My  son,  to-morrow  is  Monday.  Proteus 
will  arrive  out  of  the  sea  to-morrow,  and  the 
Proteus  ball  comes  off  to-morrow  night.  In 
spite  of  these  distractions,  the  banks  are 
open  in  the  morning.  Savvy? 

"I'll  go  to  Maillard  the  banker — Joseph 
Maillard — first  thing  in  the  morning,  and 
offer  him  my  stock.  He'll  be  mighty  glad  to 
get  it  at  a  discount,  knowing  that  it  is  in  his 
son's  company.  You  see,  the  son  doesn't 
confide  in  the  old  man  particularly.  I'll  let 
the  father  win  a  little  money  on  the  deal 


THE  MASQUER  UNMASKS      101 

with  me,  and  by  doing  this  I'll  manage  to 
save  the  greater  part  of  my  investment " 

"Holy  mackerel!"  Hammond  exploded 
in  a  burst  of  laughter  as  he  caught  the  idea. 
"Say,  if  this  ain't  the  richest  thing  ever 
pulled!  When  the  crash  comes,  the  fancy 
kid  will  be  stinging  his  dad  good  and  hard, 
eh?" 

"Exactly;  and  I  think  his  dad  can  afford 
to  be  stung  much  better  than  I  can,"  agreed 
Gramont,  cheerfully.  "Also,  now  that  I'm 
certain  Bob  Maillard  is  the  one  who  was 
behind  the  fleecing  of  Miss  Ledanois,  I'll  first 
get  clear  of  him,  then  I'll  start  to  give  him  his 
deserts.  I  may  form  an  oil  company  of  my 
own." 

"Do  it,"  advised  Hammond,  still  chuck- 
ling. 

"Now,"  and  Gramont  rose,  "let's  take 
those  packages  and  stow  them  away  in  the 
luggage  compartment  of  the  car.  I'm  get- 
ting nervous  at  the  thought  of  having  them 
around  here,  and  they'll  be  perfectly  safe 
there  overnight — safer  there  than  here,  in 
fact.  To-morrow,  you  can  take  the  car  out 
of  town  and  send  the  packages  by  parcels 
post  from  some  small  town. 


102   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

"In  that  way  they  ought  to  be  delivered 
here  on  Wednesday.  You'd  better  wear  one 
of  my  suits,  leaving  your  chauffeur's  outfit 
here,  and  don't  halt  the  car  in  front  of  the 
postoffice  where  you  mail  the  packages " 

"I  get  you,"  assented  Hammond,  sagely. 
"I'll  leave  the  car  outside  town,  and  hoof  it  in 
with  the  boxes,  so  that  nobody  will  notice  the 
car  or  connect  it  with  the  packages,  eh?  But 
what  about  them  aviator's  clothes?" 

"Take  them  with  you — better  get  them 
wrapped  up  here  and  now.  You  can  toss 
them  into  a  ditch  anywhere." 

Hammond  obeyed. 

Ten  minutes  afterward  the  two  men  left 
the  room,  carrying  the  packages  of  loot  and 
the  bundle  containing  the  aviator's  uniform. 
They  descended  to  the  courtyard  in  the  rear 
of  the  house.  Here  was  a  small  garden,  with 
a  fountain  in  its  centre.  Behind  this  were 
the  stables,  which  had  long  been  disused  as 
such,  and  which  were  now  occupied  only  by 
the  car  of  Gramont. 

It  was  with  undisguised  relief  that  Gra- 
mont now  saw  the  stuff  actually  out  of  the 
house.  Within  the  last  few  hours  he  had 
become  intensely  afraid  of  Jachin  Fell. 


THE  MASQUER  UNMASKS      103 

Concentrating  himself  upon  the  man,  picking 
up  information  guardedly,  he  had  that  day 
assimilated  many  small  items  which  increased 
his  sense  of  peril  from  that  quarter.  Straws, 
no  more,  but  quite  significant  straws.  Gra- 
mont  realized  clearly  that  if  the  police  ever 
searched  his  rooms  and  found  this  loot,  he 
would  be  lost.  There  could  be  no  excuse 
that  would  hold  water  for  a  minute  against 
such  evidence. 

In  the  garage,  Hammond  switched  on  the 
lights  of  the  car.  By  the  glow  they  disposed 
their  burdens  in  the  luggage  compartment  of 
the  tonneau,  which  held  them  neatly.  The 
car  was  a  large  twelve-cylinder,  four- 
passenger  Nonpareil,  which  Gramont  had 
picked  up  in  the  used-car  market.  Ham- 
mond had  tinkered  it  into  magnificent  shape, 
and  loved  the  piece  of  mechanism  as  the  very 
apple  of  his  eye. 

The  luggage  compartment  closed  and 
locked,  they  returned  into  the  house  and 
dismissed  the  affair  as  settled. 

Upon  the  following  morning  Gramont, 
who  usually  breakfasted  en  pension  with 
his  hostess,  had  barely  seated  himself  at 
the  table  when  he  perceived  the  figure  of 


104   THE  MARD1  GRAS  MYSTERY 

Hammond  at  the  rear  entrance  of  the 
dining  room.  The  chauffeur  beckoned  him 
hastily. 

"Come  out  here,  cap'n!"  Hammond  was 
breathing  heavily,  and  seemed  to  be  in  some 
agitation.  "Want  to  show  you  somethin'!" 

"Is  there  anything  important?"  Gramont 
hesitated.  The  other  regarded  him  with  a 
baleful  countenance. 

"Important?     Worse'n  that!" 

Gramont  rose  and  followed  Hammond  out 
to  the  garage,  much  to  his  amazement.  The 
chauffeur  halted  beside  the  car  and  ex- 
tended him  a  key,  pointing  to  the  luggage 
compartment. 

"Here's  the  key — you  open  her!" 

"What's  the  matter,  man?" 

"The  stuff's  gone!" 

Gramont  seized  the  key  and  opened  the 
compartment.  It  proved  empty  indeed.  He 
stared  up  into  the  face  of  Hammond  who 
was  watching  in  dogged  silence. 

"I  knew  you'd  suspect  me,"  broke  out 
the  chauffeur,  but  Gramont  interrupted  him 
curtly. 

"Don't  be  a  fool;  nothing  of  the  sort. 
Was  the  garage  locked?" 


THE  MASQUER  UNMASKS      105 

"Yes,  and  the  compartment,  too!  I  came 
out  to  look  over  that  cut  tire,  and  thought 
I'd  make  sure  the  stuff  was  safe " 

"We're  up  against  it,  that's  all."  Gramont 
compressed  his  lips  for  a  moment.  Then  he 
straightened  up  and  clapped  the  other  on  the 
shoulder.  "Buck  up!  I  never  thought  of 
suspecting  you,  old  fellow.  Someone  must 
have  been  watching  us  last  night,  eh?" 

"The  guy  that  trailed  you  yesterday, 
most  like,"  agreed  Hammond,  dourly.  "It 
ain't  hard  to  break  into  this  place,  and  any 
one  could  open  that  compartment  with  a 
hairpin." 

"Well,  you're  saved  a  trip  into  the  country." 

"You  think  they  got  us,  cap'n?  What  can 
we  do?" 

"Do?"  Gramont  shrugged  his  shoulders 
and  laughed.  "Nothing  except  to  wait  and 
see  what  happens  next!  If  you  want  to 
run,  I'll  give  you  enough  money  to  land  you 
in  New  York  or  Frisco " 

"Run — hell!"  Hammond  sniffed  in  scorn. 
"What  d'you  think  I  am— a  boche?  I'll 
stick." 

"Good  boy."  Gramont  turned  toward  the 
house.  "Come  along  in  and  get  breakfast, 


106  THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

and  don't  touch  that  compartment  door.     I 
want  to  examine  it  later." 

Hammond  gazed  admiringly  after  him  as 
he  crossed  the  garden.  "If  you  ain't  a  cool 
hand,  I'm  a  Dutchman!"  he  murmured,  and 
followed  bis  master. 


CHAPTER  VI 

Chacherre 

A  TEN  o'clock  that  Monday  morning 
Gramont's    car    approached     Canal 
Street,  and  halted  a  block  distant. 
For  any  car  to  gain  Canal,  much  less  to  follow 
it,  was  impossible.     From  curb  to  curb  the 
wide  avenue  was  thronged  with  carnival  folk, 
who  would  hold  their  own  until  Proteus  came 
ashore  to  manage  his  own  parade  and  his  own 
section  of  the  festivities. 

Gramont  left  the  car,  and  turned  to  speak 
with  Hammond. 

"I've  made  out  at  least  two  fingerprints  on 
the  luggage  compartment,"  he  said,  quietly. 
"Drive  around  to  police  headquarters  and 
enter  a  complaint  in  my  name  to  a  robbery 
of  the  compartment;  say  that  the  thief  got 
away  with  some  valuable  packages  I  had  been 
about  to  mail.  They  have  a  process  of  trans- 
ferring fingerprints  such  as  these;  get  it  done. 
Perhaps  they  can  identify  the  thief,  for  it  must 

107 


108  THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

have  been  some  clever  picklock  to  get  into  the 
compartment  without  leaving  a  scratch.  Take 
your  time  about  it  and  come  home  when 
you've  finished." 

Hammond  listened  stolidly.  "If  it  was 
the  bulls  done  it,  cap'n,  going  to  them  will  get 
us  pinched  sure " 

"If  they  had  done  it,"  said  Gramont, 
"we'd  have  been  pinched  long  before  this! 
It  was  someone  sent  by  that  devil  Jachin 
Fell,  and  I'll  land  him  if  I  can!" 

"Then  Fell  will  land  us  if  he's  got  the 
stuff!" 

"Let  him!  How  can  he  prove  anything, 
unless  he  had  brought  the  police  to  open  up 
that  compartment  ?  Get  along  with  you ! " 

Hammond  grinned,  saluted,  and  drove 
away. 

Slowly  Gramont  edged  his  way  through  the 
eddying  crowds  to  Canal  Street,  and  presently 
gained  the  imposing  portals  of  the  Exeter 
National  Bank.  Entering  the  building,  he 
sent  his  card  to  the  private  office  of  the 
president;  a  moment  later  he  was  ushered 
in,  and  was  closeted  with  Joseph  Maillard. 

The  interior  of  the  Exeter  National  re- 
flected the  stern  personality  that  ruled  it. 


CHACHERRE  109 

The  bank  was  dark,  old  fashioned,  conserva- 
tive, guarded  with  much  effrontery  of  iron 
grills  and  bars  against  the  evil  doer. 

The  window  men  greeted  their  customers 
with  infrequent  smiles,  with  caution  and 
reserve  so  great  that  it  was  positively  chilly. 
Suspicion  seemed  in  the  air.  The  bank's 
reputation  for  guarding  the  sanctity  of  wealth 
seemed  to  rest  heavily  upon  each  pair  of 
bowed  shoulders.  Even  the  stenographers  were 
unhandsome  women,  weary-eyed,  drearily  effi- 
cient, and  obviously  respectable. 

As  befitted  so  old  and  conservative  a  New 
Orleans  institution,  much  of  its  business  was 
transacted  in  French. 

The  business  customers  of  this  bank  found 
their  affairs  handled  coldly,  efficiently,  with 
an  inhuman  precision  that  was  admirable. 
It  was  good  for  business,  and  they  liked  it. 
There  were  no  mistakes. 

People  who  were  accustomed  to  dealing 
with  bankers  of  cordial  smile  and  courteous 
word,  people  who  liked  to  walk  into  a  bank 
and  to  be  met  with  a  personal  greeting,  did 
not  come  here,  nor  were  they  wanted  here. 
The  Exeter  National  was  a  place  for  business, 
not  for  courtesy.  It  was  absolutely  precise, 


110  THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

cold,  inhuman,  and  spelled  business  from  the 
ground  up.  Its  oldest  customer  could  not 
buy  a  draft  on  Paris  or  London  or  other  of  the 
bank's  correspondents  without  paying  the 
required  fee.  The  wealthiest  depositor  could 
not  expect  to  overdraw  his  checking  account 
one  dollar  without  being  required  to  settle  up 
before  the  next  day  was  gone.  Loans  were 
made  hesitatingly,  grudgingly,  and  of  neces- 
sity, always  on  security  and  never  on  char- 
acter. 

Such  was  the  Exeter  National.  Its  char- 
acter was  reflected  in  the  cold  faces  at  its 
windows,  and  the  chance  customers  who 
entered  its  sacred  portals  were  duly  cowed 
and  put  in  their  proper  place.  Most  of  them 
were,  that  is.  Occasionally  some  intrepid 
soul  appeared  who  seemed  impervious  to  the 
gloomy  chill,  who  seemed  even  to  resent  it. 
One  of  these  persons  was  now  standing  in  the 
lobby  and  staring  around  with  a  cool  impu- 
dence which  drew  unfavourable  glances  from 
the  clerks. 

He  was  a  decently  dressed  fellow,  ob- 
viously no  customer  of  this  sacrosanct  place, 
obviously  a  stranger  to  its  interior.  Be- 
neath a  rakishly  cocked  soft  hat  beamed  a 


CHACHERRE  111 

countenance  that  bore  a  look  of  self-assured 
impertinent  deviltry.  After  one  look  at  that 
countenance  the  assistant  cashier  crooked  a 
hasty  finger  at  the  floor  guard,  who  nodded  and 
walked  over  to  the  intruder  with  a  polite  query. 

"Can  I  help  you,  sir?" 

The  intruder  turned,  favoured  the  guard 
with  a  cool  stare,  then  broke  into  a  laugh  and 
a  flood  of  Creole  dialect. 

"Why,  if  it  isn't  old  Lacroix  from  Carencro! 
And  look  at  the  brass  buttons — diable!  You 
must  own  this  place,  hein?  la  tche  chatte 
pousse  avec  temps — the  cat's  tail  grows  in  time, 
I  see!  You  remember  me?" 

"Ben  Chacherre!"  exclaimed  the  guard, 
losing  his  dignity  for  an  instant.  "Why — 
you  vaurien,  you!  You  who  disappeared 
from  the  parish  and  became  a  vagrant " 

"So  you  turn  up  your  sanctified  nose  at 
Ben  Chacherre,  do  you?"  exclaimed  that 
person  jauntily.  He  thrust  his  hat  a  bit  far- 
ther over  one  ear,  and  proceeded  to  snap  his 
fingers  under  the  nose  of  Lacroix. 

"A  vaurien,  am  I?  Old  peacock!  Lead 
me  to  the  man  who  cashes  checks,  lackey, 
brass  buttons  that  you  are!  Come,  obey  me, 
or  I'll  have  you  thrown  into  the  street!" 


112   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

"You — you  wish  to  cash  a  check?"  The 
guard  was  overcome  by  confusion,  for  the 
loud  tones  of  Chacherre  penetrated  the  en- 
tire institution.  "But  you  are  not  known 
here " 

"Bah,  insolent  one!  Macaque  dan  calebasse 
— monkey  in  the  calabash  that  you  are!  Do 
you  not  know  me?" 

"Heaven  preserve  me!  I  will  not  answer 
for  your  accursed  checks." 

"Go  to  the  devil,  then,"  snapped  Chacherre, 
and  turned  away. 

His  roving  eyes  had  already  found  the 
correct  window  by  means  of  the  other  persons 
seeking  it,  and  now  he  stepped  into  the  small 
queue  that  had  formed.  When  it  came  his 
turn,  he  slid  his  check  across  the  marble  slab, 
tucked  his  thumbs  into  the  armholes  of  his 
vest,  and  impudently  stared  into  the  ques- 
tioning, coldly  repellent  eyes  of  the  teller. 

"Well?"  he  exclaimed,  as  the  teller  ex- 
amined the  check.  "Do  you  wish  to  eat  it, 
that  you  sniff  so  hard?" 

The  teller  gave  him  a  glance.  "This  is 
for  a  thousand  dollars " 

"Can  I  not  read?"  said  Chacherre,  with  an 
impudent  gesture.  "Am  I  an  ignorant 


CHACHERRE  113 

'Cajun?  Have  I  not  eyes  in  my  head?  If 
you  wish  to  start  an  argument,  say  that  the 
check  is  for  a  hundred  dollars.  Then,  by 
heaven,  I  will  argue  something  with  you!" 

"You  are  Ben  Chacherre,  eh?  Does  any 
one  here  know  you?" 

Chacherre  exploded  in  a  violent  oath.  "Dolt 
that  you  are,  do  I  have  to  be  known  when  the 
check  is  endorsed  under  my  signature?  Who 
taught  you  business,  monkey?" 

"True,"  answered  the  teller,  sulkily.  "Yet 
the  amount " 

"Oh,  bah!"  Chacherre  snapped  his  fing- 
ers. "Go  and  telephone  Jachin  Fell,  you 
old  woman!  Go  and  tell  him  you  do  not 
know  his  signature — well,  who  are  you  look- 
ing at?  Am  I  a  telephone,  then?  You  are 
not  hired  to  look  but  to  act!  Get  about 
it." 

The  enraged  and  scandalized  teller  beck- 
oned a  confrere.  Jachin  Fell  was  telephoned. 
Presumably  his  response  was  reassuring,  for 
Chacherre  was  presently  handed  a  thousand 
dollars  in  small  bills,  as  he  requested.  He 
insisted  upon  counting  over  the  money  at  the 
window  with  insolent  assiduity,  flung  a  final 
compliment  at  the  teller,  and  swaggered  across 


114   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

the  lobby.  He  was  still  standing  by  the  en- 
trance when  Henry  Gramont  left  the  private 
office  of  the  president  and  passed  him  by  with- 
out a  look. 

Gramont  was  smiling  to  himself  as  he  left 
the  bank,  and  Ben  Chacherre  was  whistling 
gaily  as  he  also  left  and  plunged  into  the 
whirling  vortex  of  the  carnival  crowds. 

Toward  noon  Gramont  arrived  afoot  at 
his  pension.  Finding  the  rooms  empty,  he 
went  on  and  passed  through  the  garden. 
Behind  the  garage,  in  the  alley,  he  discovered 
Hammond  busily  at  work  cleaning  and  pol- 
ishing the  engine  of  the  car. 

"Hello!"  he  exclaimed,  cheerily.  "What 
luck?" 

"Pretty  good,  cap'n."  Hammond  glanced 
up,  then  paused. 

A  stranger  was  strolling  toward  them  along 
the  alleyway,  a  jaunty  individual  who  was 
gaily  whistling  and  who  seemed  entirely 
carefree  and  happy.  He  appeared  to  have 
no  interest  whatever  in  them,  and  Hammond 
concluded  that  he  was  innocuous. 

"They  got  them  prints  fine,  cap'n.  What's 
more,  they  think  they've  located  the  fellow 
that  made  'em." 


CHACHERRE  115 

"Ah,  good  work!"  exclaimed  Gramont. 
' '  Some  criminal  ? ' ' 

Hammond  frowned.  The  stranger  had 
come  to  a  halt  a  few  feet  distant,  flung  them 
a  jerky,  careless  nod,  and  was  beginning  to 
roll  a  cigarette.  He  surveyed  the  car  with  a 
knowing  and  appreciative  eye.  Hammond 
turned  his  back  on  the  man  disdainfully. 

"Yep — a  sneak  thief  they'd  pinched  a 
couple  of  years  back;  didn't  know  where  he 
was,  but  the  prints  seemed  to  fit  him.  They'll 
come  up  and  look  things  over  sometime  to- 
day, then  go  after  him  and  land  him." 

Gramont  gave  the  stranger  a  glance,  but 
the  other  was  still  surveying  the  car  with 
evident  admiration.  If  he  heard  their  words 
he  gave  them  no  attention. 

"Who  was  the  man,  then?"  asked  Gramont. 

"A  guy  with  a  queer  name — Ben  Cha- 
cherre."  Hammond  pronounced  it  as  he 
deemed  correct — as  the  name  was  spelled. 
"Only  they  didn't  call  him  that.  Here,  I 
wrote  it  down." 

He  fished  in  his  pocket  and  produced  a 
paper.  Gramont  glanced  at  it  and  laughed. 

"Oh,  Chacherre!"  He  gave  the  name  the 
Creole  pronunciation. 


116   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

"Yep,  Sasherry.  I  expect  they'll  come 
any  time  now — said  two  bulls  would  drop 
in." 

"All  right."  Gramont  nodded  and  turned 
away,  with  another  glance  at  the  stranger. 
"I'll  not  want  the  car  to-day  nor  to-night 
that  I  know  of.  I'm  not  going  to  the  Proteus 
ball.  So  your  time's  your  own  until  to- 
morrow; make  the  most  of  it!" 

He  disappeared,  and  Hammond  returned 
to  his  work.  Then  he  straightened  up,  for 
the  jaunty  stranger  was  bearing  down  upon 
him  with  evident  intent  to  speak. 

"Some  car  you  got  there,  brother!"  Ben 
Chacherre,  who  had  overheard  most  of  the 
foregoing  conversation,  lighted  his  cigarette 
and  grinned  familiarly.  "Some  car,  eh?" 

"She's  a  boat,  all  right,"  conceded  Ham- 
mond, grudgingly.  He  did  not  like  the  other's 
looks,  although  praise  of  the  car  was  sweet 
unto  his  soul.  "She  sure  steps  some." 

"Yes.  All  she  needs,"  drawled  Chacherre, 
"is  some  good  tires,  a  new  coat  of  paint,  a 
good  steel  chassis,  and  a  new  engine — 

"Huh?"  snorted  Hammond.  "Say,  you 
'bo,  who  sold  you  chips  in  this  game?  Move 
along!" 


CHACHERRE  117 

Ben  grinned  anew  and  rested  himself  against 
a  near-by  telephone  pole. 

"Free  country,  ain't  it?"  he  inquired,  lazily. 
"Or  have  you  invested  your  winnings  and 
bought  this  here  alley?" 

Hammond  reddened  with  anger  and  took 
a  step  forward.  The  next  words  of  Chacherre, 
however,  jerked  him  sharply  into  self-control. 

"Seen  anything  of  an  aviator's  helmet 
around  here?" 

"Huh?"  The  chauffeur  glared  at  his  tor- 
mentor, yet  with  a  sudden  sick  feeling  inside 
his  bosom.  He  suddenly  realized  that  the 
man's  eyes  were  meeting  his  squarely,  with  a 
bold  and  insolent  directness.  "Who  you 
kiddin'  now?" 

"Nobody.  I  was  asking  a  question,  that's 
all."  Ben  Chacherre  flung  away  his  cigarette, 
untangled  himself  from  the  telephone  pole, 
and  moved  away.  "Only,"  he  flung  over 
his  shoulder,  "I  was  fly  in'  along  here  last 
night  in  my  airplane,  and  I  lost  my  helmet 
overboard.  Thought  maybe  you'd  seen  it. 
So  long,  brother!" 

Hammond  stood  staring  after  the  swagger- 
ing figure;  for  once  he  was  speechless.  The 
jaunty  words  had  sent  terror  thrilling  into 


118   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

him.  He  started  impulsively  to  pursue  that 
impudent  accoster — then  he  checked  himself. 
Had  the  man  guessed  something?  Had  the 
man  known  something?  Or  had  those  words 
been  only  a  bit  of  meaningless  impertinence — 
a  chance  shaft  which  had  accidentally  flown 
home? 

The  last  conjecture  impressed  itself  on 
Hammond  as  being  the  truth,  and  his  mo- 
mentary fright  died  out.  He  concluded  that 
the  incident  was  not  worth  mentioning  to 
Gramont,  who  surely  had  troubles  enough 
of  his  own  at  this  juncture.  So  he  held  his 
peace  about  it. 

As  for  Ben  Chacherre,  he  sauntered  from 
the  alley,  a  careless  whistle  upon  his  lips. 
Once  out  of  Hammond's  sight,  however,  he 
quickened  his  pace.  Turning  into  a  side 
street,  he  directed  his  step  toward  that  part 
of  the  old  quarter  which,  in  the  days  before 
prohibition,  had  been  given  over  to  low 
cabarets  and  dives  of  various  sorts.  Most  of 
these  places  were  now  boarded  up,  and 
presumably  abandoned.  Coming  to  one  of 
them,  which  appeared  more  dirty  and  desolate 
than  the  rest,  Chacherre  opened  a  side  door 
and  vanished. 


CHACHERRE  119 

He  entered  what  had  once  been  the  Red 
Cat  cabaret.  At  a  table  in  the  half -darkened 
main  room  sat  two  men.  A  slovenly  waiter 
pored  over  a  newspaper  at  another  table  in  a 
far  corner.  The  two  in  the  centre  nodded  to 
Chacherre.  One  of  them,  who  was  the  pro- 
prietor, jerked  his  chin  hi  an  invitation  to 
join  them. 

A  man  famous  in  the  underworld  circles,  a 
man  whose  renown  rested  on  curious  feats  and 
facts,  this  proprietor;  few  crooks  in  the 
country  had  not  heard  the  name  of  Memphis 
Izzy  Gumberts.  He  was  a  grizzled  old  bear 
now;  but  in  times  past  he  had  been  the  head 
of  a  far-flung  organization  which,  on  each  pay 
day,  covered  every  army  post  in  the  country 
and  diverted  into  its  own  pockets  about  two 
thirds  of  Uncle  Sam's  payroll — a  feat  still 
related  in  criminal  circles  as  the  ne  plus  ultra 
of  success.  Those  palmy  days  were  gone,  but 
Memphis  Izzy,  who  had  never  been  "mugged " 
in  any  gallery,  sat  in  his  deserted  cabaret 
and  still  did  not  lack  for  power  and  influence. 

The  man  at  his  side  was  apparently  not 
anxious  to  linger,  for  he  rose  and  made  his 
farewells  as  Chacherre  approached. 

"We  have  about   eighteen  cars  left,"  he 


120   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

said  to  Gumberts.  "Charley  the  Goog  can 
attend  to  them,  and  the  place  is  safe  enough. 
They're  up  to  you.  I'm  drifting  back  to  Chi." 

"Drift  along,"  and  Gumberts  nodded,  a 
leer  in  his  eyes.  His  face  was  broad,  heavy- 
jo  wled,  filled  with  a  keen  and  forceful  craft. 
"It's  a  cinch  that  nobody  in  this  state  is 
goin'  to  interfere  with  us.  About  them  cars 
from  Texas — any  news?" 

"I've  sent  orders  to  bring  'em  in  next 
week." 

Gumberts  nodded  again,  and  the  man  de- 
parted. Into  the  chair  which  he  had  va- 
cated dropped  Ben  Chacherre,  and  took  from 
his  pocket  the  money  which  he  had  obtained 
at  the  bank.  He  laid  it  on  the  table  before 
Gumberts. 

"There  you  are,"  he  said.  "Amounts 
you  want  and  all.  The  boss  says  to  gimme 
a  receipt." 

"Wouldn't  trust  you,  eh?"  jeered  Gum- 
berts. He  took  out  pencil  and  paper, 
scrawled  a  word  or  two,  and  shoved  the  paper 
at  Chacherre.  Then  he  reached  down  to  a 
small  satchel  which  lay  open  on  the  floor  be- 
side his  chair.  "Why  wouldn't  the  boss  leave 
the  money  come  out  of  the  takin's,  hey?" 


CHACHERRE  121 

"Wanted  to  keep  separate  accounts,"  said 
Chacherre. 

Gumberts  nodded  and  produced  two  large 
sealed  envelopes,  which  he  pushed  across 
the  table. 

"There's  rakeoff  for  week  before  last,"  he 
announced.  "Last  week  will  be  the  big 
business,  judgin'  from  early  reports." 

Chacherre  pocketed  the  envelopes,  lighted 
a  cigarette,  and  leaned  forward. 

"Say,  Izzy!  You  got  to  send  a  new  man 
down  to  the  Bayou  Latouche  right  away. 
Lafarge  was  there,  you  know;  a  nigger  shot 
him  yesterday.  The  nigger  threatened  to 
squeal  unless  he  got  his  money  back — Lafarge 
was  a  fool  and  didn't  know  how  to  handle 
him.  The  lottery's  goin'  to  get  a  bad  name 
around  there " 

Gumberts  snapped  his  fingers.  "Let  it!" 
he  said,  calmly.  "The  big  money  from  all 
that  section  is  Chinese  and  Filipino,  my 
friend.  The  niggers  don't  matter." 

"Well,  the  boss  says  to  shoot  a  new  man 
down  there.  Also,  he  says,  you'd  better 
watch  out  about  spreadin'  the  lottery  into 
Texas  and  Alabama,  account  of  the  govern- 
ment rules." 


122   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

The  heavy  features  of  Gumberts  closed  in  a 
scowl. 

"You  tell  your  boss,"  he  said,  "that  when 
it  comes  to  steerin'  clear  of  federal  men,  I 
don't  want  no  instructions  from  nobody! 
We  got  every  man  in  this  state  spotted. 
Every  one  that  can  be  fixed  is  fixed — and 
that  goes  for  the  legislators  and  politicians 
clear  up  the  line!  Tell  your  boss  to  handle 
the  local  gov'ment  as  well  as  I  handle  other 
things,  and  he'll  do  all  that's  necessary.  What 
he'd  ought  to  attend  to,  for  one  thing,  is  this 
here  guy  who  calls  himself  the  Midnight 
Masquer.  I've  told  him  before  that  this 
guy  was  playing  hell  with  my  system!  This 
Masquer  gets  no  protection,  see?  The  quicker 
Fell  goes  after  him,  the  better  for  all  con- 
cerned  " 

Chacherre  laughed,  not  without  a  swagger. 

"We've  attended  to  all  that,  Izzy — we've 
dropped  on  him  and  settled  him!  The  guy 
was  doin'  it  for  a  carnival  joke,  that's  all. 
His  loot  is  all  goin '  back  to  the  owners  to-day. 
It  needn't  worry  you,  anyhow!  There  was 
nothin'  much  to  it — jewellery  that  couldn't 
be  disposed  of,  for  the  most  part.  We 
couldn't  take  chances  on  that  sort  o'  junk." 


CHACHERRE  123 

"I  should  say  not."  Gumbert  regarded 
him  with  a  scowl.  "You've  got  the  stuff?" 

"The  boss  has.  Look  here,  Izzy,  I  want  you 
to  use  a  little  influence  with  headquarters  on 
this  deal — the  boss  doesn't  want  to  show  his 
hand  there,"  and  leaning  forward,  Ben  Cha- 
cherre  spoke  in  a  low  tone.  Then,  Gumberts 
heard  him  out,  chuckled,  and  nodded  assent. 

At  two  that  afternoon  Henry  Gramont, 
who  was  writing  letters  in  total  disregard  of 
the  carnival  parade  downtown,  was  sum- 
moned to  the  telephone.  He  was  greeted 
by  a  voice  which  he  did  not  recognize,  but 
which  announced  itself  promptly. 

"This  is  Mr.  Gramont?  Police  head- 
quarters speakin'.  You  laid  a  charge  this 
morning  against  a  fellow  named  Chacherre?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Gramont. 

"Must  ha'  been  some  mistake,  then," 
came  the  response.  "We  thought  the  prints 
fitted,  but  found  later  they  didn't.  We 
looked  up  the  Chacherre  guy  and  found  he 
was  workin '  steady  and  strictly  O.  K.  What's 
more  to  the  point,  he  proved  up  a  dead  sure 
alibi  for  the  other  night." 

"  Oh ! "  said  Gramont.  "  Then  there's  noth- 
ing to  be  done?" 


124   THE  MARD1  GRAS  MYSTERY 

"Not  yet.  We're  workin '  on  it,  and  maybe 
we'll  have  some  news  later.  Good-bye." 

Gramont  hung  up  the  receiver,  a  puzzled 
frown  creasing  his  brow.  But,  after  a  minute, 
he  laughed  softly — a  trace  of  anger  in  the 
laugh. 

"Ah ! "  he  murmured.  "I  congratulate  you 
on  your  efficiency,  Mr.  Fell !  But  now  wait  a 
little — and  we'll  meet  again.  I  think  I'm 
geting  somewhere  at  last,  and  I'll  have  a 
surprise  for  you  one  of  these  days!" 


CHAPTER  VII 

In  The  Open 

IN  NEW  ORLEANS  the  carnival  season  is 
always  opened  by  the  ball  of  the  Twelfth 
Night  Revellers  soon  after  Christmas,  and 
is  closed  by  that  of  the  Krewe  of  Comus  on 
Mardi    Gras   night.     Upon   this   evening   of 
"Fat  Tuesday,"  indeed,  both  Rex  and  Comus 
hold   forth.     Rex   is   the   popular   ball,   the 
affair  of  the  people,  and  is  held  in  the  Athen- 
aeum.    From  here,  about  midnight,  the  king 
and  queen  proceed  to  Comus  ball. 

Comus  is  an  assembly  of  such  rigid  ex- 
clusiveness  that  even  the  tickets  to  the  gal- 
leries are  considered  social  prizes.  The  per- 
sonae  of  the  Krewe,  on  this  particular  year 
as  in  all  previous  ones,  would  remain  un- 
known; there  is  no  unmasking  at  Comus. 
This  institution,  a  tremendous  social  power 
and  potentially  a  financial  power  also,  during 
decades  of  the  city's  life,  is  held  absolutely 
above  any  taint  of  favouritism  or  commercial- 

125 


126  THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

ism.  Even  the  families  of  those  concerned 
might  not  always  be  certain  whether  their 
sons  and  brothers  belonged  to  the  Krewe 
of  Comus. 

Henry  Gramont  did  not  attend  the  ball  of 
Proteus  on  Monday  night.  Instead,  he  sat 
in  his  own  room,  while  through  the  streets 
of  the  French  quarter  outside  was  raging 
the  carnival  at  its  height.  Before  him  were 
maps  and  reports  upon  the  gas  and  oil  fields 
about  Bayou  Terrebonne — fields  where  great 
domes  of  natural  gas  were  already  located 
and  in  use,  and  where  oil  was  being  found  in 
some  quantity.  Early  on  Wednesday  morn- 
ing Gramont  intended  to  set  forth  to  his  work. 
He  had  been  engaged  to  make  a  report  to 
Bob  Maillard's  company,  and  he  would  make 
it.  Then  he  would  resign  his  advisory  job, 
and  be  free.  A  smile  curled  his  lips  as  he 
thought  of  young  Maillard  and  the  company. 

"The  young  gentleman  will  be  sadly  sur- 
prised to  discover  that  I've  gotten  out  from 
under — and  that  his  respected  father  holds 
my  stock!"  he  reflected.  "That  was  a  good 
deal ;  I  lost  a  thousand  to  old  Maillard  in  order 
to  save  the  balance  of  thirty  thousand!" 

A  knock  at  his  door  interrupted  the  thread 


IN  THE  OPEN  127 

of  this  thought.  Gramont  opened,  to  find 
the  concierge  with  a  note  which  had  been 
left  at  the  door  below  by  a  masked  Harlequin, 
who  had  then  disappeared  without  awaiting 
any  reply. 

Gramont  recognized  the  writing  on  the 
envelope,  and  hastened  to  the  note  inside. 
His  face  changed,  however,  as  he  read  it : 

Please  call  promptly  at  eleven  to-morrow  morning. 
I  wish  to  see  you  upon  a  matter  of  business. 

LUCIE  LEDANOIS. 

Gramont  gazed  long  at  this  note,  his  brows 
drawn  down  into  a  harsh  line.  It  was  not 
like  Lucie  in  its  tone,  somehow;  he  sensed 
something  amiss,  something  vaguely  but  most 
decidedly  out  of  tune.  Certainly  it  was  not 
her  way  to  write  thus  curtly  and  harshly — 
the  words  disquieted  him.  What  could  have 
turned  up  now?  Then,  with  a  shrug,  he  tossed 
the  note  on  the  table. 

"Eleven  to-morrow  morning,  eh?"  he  mur- 
mured. "That's  queer,  too,  for  she's  to  be 
at  the  Proteus  ball  to-night.  Most  girls 
would  not  be  conducting  business  affairs 
at  eleven  in  the  morning,  after  being  up  all 
night  at  Proteus!  It  must  be  something  im- 


128   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

portant.  Besides,  she's  not  in  the  class  with 
any  one  else.  She's  a  rare  girl;  no  nonsense 
in  her — full  of  a  deep,  strong  sense  of 
things- 
He  forced  himself  from  thoughts  of  Lucie, 
forced  himself  from  her  personality,  and  re- 
turned to  his  reports  with  an  effort  of  con- 
centration. 

Gramont  wanted  to  look  over  her  Terre- 
bonne  land  with  a  full  knowledge  of  its  geol- 
ogy and  situation.  Oil  drilling  is  a  gamble 
in  any  case,  yet  Gramont  took  a  scholar's 
solid  satisfaction  in  getting  his  subject  thor- 
oughly in  hand  before  he  went  to  work  at  it. 
Then,  he  reflected,  he  would  get  his  task 
finished  as  rapidly  as  might  be,  turn  in  his 
report,  and  resign  from  the  company.  After 
that — freedom!  He  regretted  sadly  enough 
that  he  had  ever  gone  into  any  relations  with 
Maillard's  company. 

"Yet,  what's  to  hinder  my  going  ahead, 
in  the  meantime?"  he  considered.  "What's 
to  hinder  getting  my  own  company  on  its 
feet?  Nothing!  All  I  need  is  backing.  I'll 
put  in  twenty-five  thousand,  and  that  much 
more  added  to  it  will  give  us  plenty  of  capital 
to  start  in  drilling  with.  If  I  could  find  some- 


IN  THE  OPEN  129 

one  who  had  a  positive  faith  in  my  judgment 
and  whom  I  could  trust  in  turn " 

He  checked  himself  suddenly,  and  stared 
at  the  papers  before  him  with  widening  eyes. 
A  slow  whistle  came  from  his  lips,  and  then 
he  smiled  and  pulled  the  papers  to  him.  Yet, 
as  he  worked  he  could  not  keep  down  the 
thought  that  had  forced  itself  upon  him.  It 
was  altogether  absurd,  of  course — yet  why 
not? 

When  Gramont  went  to  bed  that  night 
it  was  with  a  startling  and  audacious  scheme 
well  defined  in  his  brain;  a  scheme  whose 
first  conception  seemed  ludicrous  and  im- 
possible, yet  which,  on  second  consideration, 
appeared  in  a  very  different  light.  It  de- 
served serious  thought — and  Gramont  had 
made  his  decision  before  he  went  to  sleep. 

The  following  day  was  Tuesday — Mardi 
Gras,  Shrove  Tuesday,  the  last  day  before 
Lent  began,  and  the  final  culminating  day 
of  carnival.  Henry  Gramont,  however,  was 
destined  to  find  little  in  its  beginning  of  much 
personal  pleasure. 

At  eleven  in  the  morning  Hammond  drove 
him  to  the  Ledanois  home,  where  Gramont 
was  admitted  by  one  of  the  coloured  servants 


130  THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

and  shown  into  the  parlour.  A  moment  later 
Lucie  herself  appeared.  At  first  glance  her 
smiling  greeting  removed  the  half -sensed  ap- 
prehensions of  Gramont.  Almost  immed- 
iately afterward,  however,  he  noted  a 
perceptible  change  in  her  manner,  as  she 
led  him  toward  the  rear  of  the  room,  and  ges- 
tured toward  a  mahogany  tilt-top  table  which 
stood  in  a  corner. 

"Come  over  here,  please.  I  have  some- 
thing which  I  wish  to  show  you." 

She  needed  to  say  no  more.  Gramont, 
following  her,  found  himself  staring  blankly 
down  at  the  symbol  of  consternation  which 
overwhelmed  him.  For  upon  that  table,  lay 
all  those  self-same  boxes  which  he  himself 
had  packed  with  the  loot  of  the  Midnight 
Masquer — the  identical  boxes,  apparently  un- 
opened, which  had  been  stolen  from  his 
automobile  by  the  supposed  thief  Chacherre! 

For  a  moment  Gramont  found  himself  un- 
able to  speak.  He  was  thunderstruck  by 
the  sight  of  those  unmistakeable  boxes.  A 
glance  at  the  calm  features  of  the  girl  showed 
him  that  there  was  nothing  to  be  concealed 
from  her,  even  had  he  wished  it.  He  was 
further  stunned  by  this  realization.  He  could 


IN  THE  OPEN  131 

not  understand  how  the  packages  had  come 
here.  Recovering  his  voice  with  an  effort,  he 
managed  to  break  the  heavy  silence. 

"Well?  I  suppose  you  know  what  is  in 
those  parcels?" 

She  nodded.  "Yes.  One  of  them  was 
opened,  and  the  note  inside  was  discovered. 
Of  course,  it  gave  a  general  explanation.  Will 
you  sit  down,  please?  I  think  that  we  had 
better  talk  it  over  quietly  and  calmly/' 

Gramont  obeyed,  and  dropped  into  a  chair. 

He  was  absurdly  conscious  of  his  own  con- 
fusion. He  tried  to  speak,  but  words  and 
thoughts  failed  him.  Torn  between  pride 
and  chagrin,  he  found  himself  able  to  say 
nothing.  Explanations,  at  any  time,  came 
to  him  with  difficulty;  now,  at  least,  he  felt 
that  he  could  not  lie  to  this  girl.  And  how 
was  he  to  tell  her  the  truth? 

And  how  had  Lucie  come  into  the  affair? 
This  staggered  him  above  all  else.  Was  she 
behind  the  theft  of  the  loot?  It  must  be. 
How  long  had  she  suspected  him,  then?  He 
had  thought  Jachin  Fell  the  sole  danger- 
point — he  had  never  dreamed  that  this  gray- 
eyed  Athene  could  be  tracing  down  the 
Masquer!  He  tried  to  visualize  the  situation 


132   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

more  clearly  and  his  brain  whirled.  He 
knew,  of  course,  that  she  was  fairly  intimate 
with  Fell,  but  he  was  not  aware  of  any  partic- 
ular connection 

He  glanced  up  at  her  suddenly,  and  sur- 
prised a  glint  of  laughter  in  her  eyes  as  she 
watched  him. 

"You  seem  to  be  rather  astonished,"  she 
observed . 

"I  am."  Gramont  drew  a  deep  breath. 
"You — do  you  know  that  those  boxes  were 
taken  from  my  car?" 

She  nodded  again.  "Certainly.  They  were 
brought  to  me." 

"Then  you  had  someone  on  my  trail?" 
Gramont  flushed  a  little  as  he  put  the  ques- 
tion to  her. 

"No.  I  have  been  chosen  to  settle  affairs 
with  you,  that  is  all.  It  has  been  learned 
from  the  note  in  the  opened  box  that  you 
were  not  criminal  in  what  you  did." 

She  leaned  forward,  her  deep  eyes  searching 
him  with  a  steady  scrutiny. 

"Tell  me,  Henry  Gramont,  what  mad 
impulse  brought  you  to  all  this?  Was  it  a 
silly,  boyish  effort  to  be  romantic — was  it  a 
mere  outburst  of  bravado?  It  was  not  for 


IN  THE  OPEN  133 

the  sake  of  robbery,  as  the  note  explained 
very  clearly.  But  why,  then?  Why?  There 
must  have  been  a  definite  reason  in  your 
mind.  You  would  not  have  taken  such  dan- 
gerous chances  unless  you  had  something  to 
gain!" 

Gramont  nodded  slightly,  then  flushed 
again  and  bit  his  lip.  For  a  moment  he 
made  no  response  to  her  query. 

He  might,  of  course,  say  that  he  had  been 
the  Midnight  Masquer  because  of  her  alone; 
which  would  be  decidedly  untrue.  He  might 
tell  her,  as  he  had  told  Hammond,  that  all 
liis  efforts  had  led  up  to  that  scene  in  the 
Maillard  library,  when  without  suspicion  by 
any  concerned  he  might  verify  his  own  sur- 
mise as  to  who  had  been  defrauding  Lucie 
Ledanois.  It  would  sound  very  well — but 
it  would  be  a  lie.  That  had  been  far  from 
his  only  reason  for  playing  the  Midnight 
Masquer's  game. 

But  why  tell  her  anything? 

A  slight  smile  touched  his  lips.  "You're 
not  going  to  send  me  to  prison,  I  trust?" 

"I  ought  to ! "  The  girl  broke  into  a  laugh. 
"Why,  I  can  hardly  yet  believe  that  it  was 
really  you  who  were  guilty  of  those  things! 


134   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

It  mortified  me,  it  stunned  me — until  I  realized 
the  truth  from  the  note.  Even  the  fact  that 
you  did  not  do  it  for  criminal  ends  does  not 
relieve  the  sheer  folly  of  the  act.  Why  did 
you  do  it?  Come,  tell  me  the  truth!" 

Gramont  shrugged.  "The  truth?  Well, 
my  chauffeur,  Hammond,  was  the  original 
Masquer.  I  caught  him  in  the  act^-you 
remember  I  told  you  about  him?  After 
taking  him  into  my  employ,  I  became  the 
Masquer.  Poor  Hammond  was  some  time 
in  realizing  that  my  motives  were  altruistic 
and  not  criminal.  He  was  quite  distressed 
about  it  until  he  found  that  I  meant  to  re- 
turn all  the  loot  intact." 

"Why  did  you  do  it,  then?"  persisted  the 
girl. 

"Call  it  bravado,  my  dear  Lucie.  Call 
it  anything  you  like — I  can't  lie  to  you!  I 
had  a  motive,  and  I  refuse  to  admit  what  it 
was;  that's  all." 

"Aren't  you  ashamed  of  yourself?" 

"Not  particularly."  He  smiled.  "I  had 
a  good  end  in  view,  and  I  accomplished  it. 
Also,  I  natter  myself  that  I  accomplished 
it  very  decently;  there's  nothing  like  being 
a  good  workman,  you  know.  Now  that  I'm 


IN  THE  OPEN  135 

all  through,  now  that  I've  finished  playing 
my  little  game,  you  happened  to  discover  it. 
I  am  ashamed  on  that  point,  Lucie — ashamed 
because  the  discovery  has  very  naturally 
made  you  think  harshly  of  me " 

"I  think  you've  been  very  silly,"  she  said 
with  a  disconcerting  calmness.  He  regarded 
her  for  a  moment,  steadily.  "And  you 
have  displayed  a  fearful  lack  of  judgment!" 

"Silly?  Well — perhaps.  What  are  you  go- 
ing to  do  with  those  boxes?" 

"I'll  put  them  in  the  mail.  I'm  going  down- 
town for  luncheon,  and  will  do  it  then.  They'll 
be  delivered  this  afternoon." 

He  nodded.  "I  had  meant  to  have  them 
delivered  to-morrow;  it  makes  no  difference. 
You're  the  boss.  It  will  give  the  good  people 
a  little  more  reason  for  jubilation  to-night,  eh?  " 

A  sudden  laugh  broke  upon  his  lips.  "I'm 
beginning  to  see  the  humour  of  it,  Lucie — and 
I  know  who  put  you  next  to  me.  It  was 
Jachin  Fell,  the  old  fox!  I  suspected  that  he 
was  on  my  trail,  and  I  thought  that  he  had 
managed  the  theft  of  those  boxes.  In  fact, 
I  was  preparing  to  give  him  a  big  surprise 
this  afternoon.  But  tell  me,  Lucie — are  you 
angry?" 


136   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

She  looked  at  him  steadily  for  a  space, 
then  a  swift  smile  leaped  to  her  lips  and  she 
extended  a  pardoning  hand.  Her  gesture 
and  words  were  impulsive,  sincere. 

"Angry?  No.  I  think  you've  some  good 
reason  behind  it  all,  which  you  won't  confide 
to  me.  I  can  read  you  pretty  clearly,  Henry 
Gramont;  I  think  I  can  understand  some 
things  in  you.  You're  no  weakling,  no  ro- 
mantic, filibustering  crackbrain!  And  I  like 
you  because  you  won't  lie  to  me.  You've 
a  motive  and  you  refuse  to  tell  it — very  well ! 
I'll  be  just  as  frank  and  say  that  I'm  not  a  bit 
angry.  So,  that's  settled! 

"Now  what  was  the  big  surprise  that  you 
just  mentioned  you  were  going  to  give  poor 
Mr.  Fell  this  afternoon?" 

Gramont 's  eyes  twinkled.  "  You  remember 
that  I  thought  he  suspected  me  of  being  the 
Masquer?  Well,  I  was  going  to  him  and 
propose  that  we  enter  business  together." 

"Oh!     As  bandits?" 

"No,  as  oil  promotors.  I'm  out  of  Mail- 
lard's  company,  or  shall  be  out  of  it  soon. 
The  minute  I'm  out,  I'll  be  free  to  go  into 
business  for  myself.  It  occurred  to  me  that 
if  Jachin  Fell  had  brains  enough  to  run  down 


IN  THE  OPEN  137 

the  Midnight  Masquer,  he  would  be  a  mighty 
good  business  partner;  because  I'm  poor  on 
business  detail.  Also,  I  think  Fell  is  to  be 
trusted.  The  things  you've  told  me  and 
written  me  about  him  prove  that  much. 
He's  very  strong  politically,  I  have  found — 
although  few  people  know  it." 

"But  he's  not  interested  in  oil  is  he?" 

"I  don't  know;  I  take  for  granted  that  he's 
interested  in  making  money.  Most  men  are. 
The  only  way  to  make  money  in  oil  is  to  have 
money — and  he  has  some!  I  have  a  little. 
I  can  put  in  twenty-five  thousand.  With 
an  equal  amount  from  him,  we  can  sink 
a  couple  of  wells,  perhaps  three.  If  we 
go  broke,  all  right.  If  we  find  oil,  we're 
rich!" 

"But,  my  dear  Henry,  if  he  knew  you  to 
be  the  Midnight  Masquer,  do  you  think  he'd 
want  to  go  into  business  with  you?"  Her 
gray  eyes  were  dancing  with  amusement 
as  she  put  the  query. 

"Why  not?"  Gramont  laughed.  "If  he 
knew  that  I  had  brains  enough  to  pull  off 
that  stunt  and  keep  all  New  Orleans  up  in 
the  air — wouldn't  I  make  a  good  partner? 
Besides,  I  believe  that  I  have  some  notion 


138   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

where  to  go  after  oil;  I'm  going  to  examine 
your  land  first " 

"My  good  prince,  you  surely  have  no  lack 
of  audacity!"  She  broke  into  a  peal  of 
laughter.  "Your  argument  about  inducing 
Mr.  Fell  to  go  into  business  with  you  is 
naive " 

"But,  as  an  argument,  isn't  it  quite  sound?" 

"Possibly.  Since  it  is  Lucie  Ledanois  and 
not  Jachin  Fell  who  has  brought  you  to  a 
confession  of  your  crimes  against  society — 
aren't  you  going  to  propose  that  she  go  into 
business  with  you?  Doesn't  the  argument 
hold  good  with  her?" 

Although  Gramont  was  taken  aback,  he 
met  her  gaze  squarely. 

"No.  Oil  is  no  woman's  game,  unless  she 
can  well  afford  to  lose.  I  imagine  that  you 
cannot,  Lucie.  Once  I  get  my  company 
formed,  however " 

"You're  right,  I  can't  put  in  any  money. 
I'm  land  poor.  Unless  I  were  to  sell  that 
Bayou  Terrebonne  land — it's  an  old  farm, 
abandoned  since  before  father  died " 

"Don't  sell  it!"  he  exclaimed,  quickly. 
"Don't  consider  any  dealings  with  it  until 
I  have  looked  it  over,  will  you?" 


IN  THE  OPEN  139 

"Since  you  ask  it,  no.  If  there's  gas  near 
by,  there  must  be  oil." 

"Who  knows?"  he  shrugged.  "No  one 
can  predict  oil." 

"Then  you  still  mean  to  go  to  Jachin  Fell 
with  your  scheme?" 

Gramont  nodded.  "Yes.  See  here,  Lucie 
— it's  about  noon!  Suppose  you  come  along 
and  lunch  with  me  at  the  Louisiane,  if  you've 
no  engagement.  We  can  put  those  boxes 
in  the  mail  en  route,  and  after  luncheon  I'll 
try  and  get  hold  of  Fell." 

She  put  her  head  on  one  side  and  studied 
him  reflectively. 

"You're  sure  you'll  not  kidnap  me  or 
anything  like  that?  It's  risky  to  become  a 
friend  of  hardened  criminals,  even  if  one  is 
trying  to  uplift  them." 

"Good!     You'll  come?" 

"If  you  can  give  me  ten  minutes " 

"  My  dear  Lucie,  you  are  the  most  charming 
object  in  New  Orleans  at  this  minute!  Why 
attempt  to  make  yourself  still  more  attractive? 
Gilding  the  lily  is  an  impossible  task." 

"Well,  wait  for  me.  Is  your  car  here? 
Good!  I  want  to  see  Hammond's  face  when 
he  sees  us  carrying  out  those  boxes." 


140   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

Laughing,  the  girl  started  toward  the 
stairs.  At  the  doorway  she  paused. 

"One  thing,  M.  le  prince!  Do  you  sol- 
emnly promise,  upon  your  honour,  that  the 
Midnight  Masquer  is  dead  for  ever?" 

"Upon  my  honour!"  said  Gramont,  seri- 
ously. "The  farce  is  ended,  Lucie." 

"All  right.  I'll  be  right  down.  Smoke 
if  you  like- 
In  her  own  room  upstairs  Lucie  closed 
the  door  and  sat  down  before  her  dressing 
table.  She  made  no  move  toward  the  array 
of  toilet  articles,  however.  Instead,  she  took 
a  desk  telephone  from  the  table,  and  called  a 
number.  In  a  moment  she  received  a  re- 
sponse. 

"Uncle  Jachin!"  she  exclaimed.  "Yes — 
it's  just  as  we  thought;  it's  all  a  joke.  No, 
it  was  not  a  joke,  either,  because  he  had  some 
motive  behind  it,  but  he  won't  tell  me  what 
it  was.  I'm  terribly  glad  that  you  opened 
one  of  those  boxes  and  found  the  letter — 
if  you  had  gone  to  the  police  it  would  have 
been  perfectly  dreadful " 

"I  never  go  to  the  police,"  said  Jachin  Fell 
with  his  dry  chuckle.  "  You  are  quite  satisfied 
that  there  is  nothing  serious  in  the  affair, then?  " 


IN  THE  OPEN  141 

"Absolutely!  He  told  me  that  he  had  ac- 
complished his  purpose,  whatever  it  was, 
and  that  it's  all  ended.  He  just  gave  me  his 
word  that  the  Masquer  was  dead  for  ever. 
Now,  aren't  you  glad  that  you  confided  in 
me?" 

"Very,"  said  Jachin  Fell.  "Very  glad, 
indeed!" 

"Now  you're  laughing  at  me — never  mind! 
We're  going  to  lunch  downtown,  and  we'll 
mail  those  boxes  on  the  way,  by  parcels  post. 
Is  that  all  right?" 

"Quite  all  right,  my  dear.  It  is  the  method 
adopted  by  the  most  exclusive  and  elusive 
criminals  in  the  country,  I  assure  you.  Every 
handbag  snatcher  gets  rid  of  his  empty  bags  by 
mailing  them  back  to  the  owner — unless 
first  caught.  It  pays  to  follow  professional 
examples,  as  Eliza  said  when  she  crossed  the 
ice.  Did  your  gown  come  for  to-night?" 

"It's  to  come  this  afternoon." 

"Very  well.  Do  not  plan  to  wear  any 
jewels,  Lucie.  I  have  a  set  to  lend  you  for 
the  occasion — no,  not  a  gift,  merely  a  loan 
for  the  sake  of  Comus.  They  are  very  nice 
pearls;  a  little  old  fashioned,  because  they 
were  mounted  for  the  Princesses  de  Lamballe, 


142   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

but  you  will  find  that  they  fit  in  excellently 
with  your  gown.  I'll  bring  them  with  me 
when  I  call  for  you " 

"And  I'll  tender  fitting  thanks  then.  One 
thing  more:  Henry  Gramont  is  going  to  see 
you  after  luncheon,  I  think — on  business. 
And  I  want  you  to  be  nice  to  him,  Uncle 
Jachin." 

"Most  assuredly,"  said  the  other,  drily. 
"I  should  like  to  be  associated  in  business  with 
that  young  man.  The  firm  would  prosper." 

"Will  you  stop  laughing  at  me?  Then  I'll 
ring  off — good-bye!" 

And,  smiling,  she  hung  up  the  receiver. 

Ten  minutes  later,  when  Gramont  and 
Miss  Ledanois  entered  the  waiting  car,  Ham- 
mond saw  the  boxes  that  they  carried.  He 
stood  beside  the  open  door,  paralyzed,  his 
eyes  fastened  on  the  boxes,  his  mouth  agape. 

"To  the  postoffice,  sergeant,"  said  Gra- 
mont, then  affected  to  observe  his  stupefac- 
tion. "Why,  what's  the  matter?" 

Hammond  met  his  twinkling  eyes,  saw  the 
laughter  of  Lucie,  and  swallowed  hard. 

"I — er — nothing  at  all,  cap'n,"  he  an- 
swered, hoarsely.  "A — a  little  chokin'  spell, 
that's  all.  Postoffice?  Yes,  sir." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

Comus 

FROM  the  time  they  left  the  Ledanois 
house  with  Lucie,  Gramont  had  no 
opportunity  of  seeing  his  chauffeur 
in  private  until,  later  in  the  afternoon,  he 
left  the  Maison  Blanche  building.  He  had 
enjoyed  a  thoroughly  satisfactory  interview 
with  Jachin  Fell.  So  wholly  had  Gramont 's 
thoughts  been  given  over  to  the  business,  in- 
deed, that  it  was  almost  a  shock  to  emerge  into 
Canal  Street  and  find  everyone  else  in  the 
world  thinking  only  of  the  water  carnival  and 
the  Rex  parade. 

As  for  the  Midnight  Masquer  and  the 
mystery  of  the  boxes  of  loot,  all  this  had 
quite  fled  Gramont's  mind  before  larger  and 
more  important  things.  The  car  was  waiting 
for  him  in  Royal  Street,  not  far  from  the 
Monteleone,  and  Gramont  approached  it  to 
find  Hammond  in  deep  worry  over  the  out- 
come of  the  interview  with  Fell. 

143 


144    THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

"Well,  cap'n!"  he  exclaimed,  anxiously,  as 
Gramont  drew  up.  "You're  smilin ',  so  I  guess 
it  ain't  a  pinch!" 

Gramont  laughed  gaily.  "Those  boxes? 
Nonsense!  Say,  sergeant,  you  must  have 
been  scared  stiff  when  you  saw  them!" 

"Scared?  I  was  ready  to  flop,  that's  all! 
And  how  in  the  name  o'  goodness  did  they 
get  in  her  house?  What's  behind  all  this?" 

Gramont  glanced  around.  He  walked  with 
Hammond  to  the  front  of  the  car,  where  he 
could  speak  without  being  overheard  by  the 
passersby. 

"It  seems  that  I  was  more  or  less  mistaken 
about  Fell  being  on  our  trail,"  he  explained, 
reflectively.  "We  had  a  very  frank  talk 
about  it,  and  he  disclaimed  all  knowledge  of 
the  boxes  themselves.  I  gathered  from  little 
things  he  dropped  that  some  criminal  had 
looted  the  stuff  from  the  car,  and  that  it  came 
to  his  attention  yesterday  in  a  legal  ca- 
pacity  -" 

"Legal  capacity,  hell!"  snorted  Hammond. 
"Did  you  swallow  all  that?" 

"My  swallowing  capacity  was  pretty  good," 
and  Gramont  chuckled.  "It  seems  that  he 
opened  one  of  the  boxes,  and  found  the  note 


COMUS  145 

I  had  written.  This  explained  the  business, 
and  by  way  of  a  little  joke  he  turned  over  the 
loot  to  Miss  Ledanois  and  she  had  a  bit  of  fun 
with  us.  Fell,  in  fact,  proved  to  be  a  pretty 
good  fellow 

"He  sure  handed  you  out  a  fine  line  of 
bull!"  commented  Hammond,  savagely. 
"What  gets  me  is  your  falling  for  all  that 
dope!  Looks  like  you  wanted  to  believe 
him,  cap'n." 

"Perhaps  I  did."  Gramont  shrugged  his 
shoulders.  "Why  not?  I've  no  reason  to 
disbelieve  him.  The  note  made  it  plain  that 
we  were  not  criminals;  now  the  whole  affair 
is  cleaned  up  and  out  of  the  way.  We're 
out  of  it  in  good  shape,  if  you  ask  me!" 

"You  said  something  there,"  agreed  Ham- 
mond, not  without  a  sigh  of  relief.  "All 
right,  if  you  say  so,  only  I  ain't  sure  about 
this  Fell— 

"Don't  worry.  The  stuff  is  returned,  and 
the  matter  is  now  closed.  We  can  forget  all 
about  the  Midnight  Masquer.  Now,  there's 
another  and  more  important  thing  that  I 
want  to  speak  with  you  about,  a  matter  of 
business 

"Hold  on,  cap'n!"  interrupted  Hammond, 


146   TEE  MARD1  GRAS  MYSTERY 

quietly,  his  eye  on  a  spot  behind  Gramont. 
"One  of  your  friends  is  headed  over  this  way, 
and  if  I  know  anything  about  it,  he's  got 
blood  in  his  eye." 

Gramont  turned,  to  see  Bob  Maillard  ap- 
proaching. The  latter  addressed  him  with- 
out any  response  to  his  greeting. 

"Have  you  a  moment  to  spare,  Gramont?" 

"All  afternoon,"  answered  Gramont,  cheer- 
fully. He  affected  not  to  observe  Maillard's 
air  of  heavy  business,  nor  the  frowning  sus- 
picion that  lurked  half-veiled  in  the  other's 
glowering  features.  "By  the  way,  I've  been 
looking  up  a  New  Orleans  landmark  without 
much  success — the  Ramos  gin  fizz  establish- 
ment. It  seems  to  be  gone!" 

"It  is,"  returned  Maillard,  sourly.  "Pro- 
hibition killed  it,  like  it's  killing  everything. 
Frangois  moved  into  the  place  last  September 
from  Old  27,  and  it's  become  his  restaurant 
now.  But  look  here,  Gramont!"  The  two 
were  standing  a  bit  apart,  and  Hammond  was 
fussing  with  one  of  the  headlights,  but  Gra- 
mont suspected  that  the  chauffeur  was  listen- 
ing avidly.  "I've  just  come  from  a  talk  with 
dad.  How  did  it  happen  that  you  sold  him 
that  stock  of  yours  in  the  company?" 


COMUS  147 

Gramont  smiled  a  little.  He  was  amused 
by  the  way  Maillard  was  endeavouring  to 
keep  down  an  outburst  of  angry  passion. 

"I  happened  to  need  the  money.     Why?" 

"But  why  the  devil  didn't  you  hang  on  to 
that  stock?  Or  if  you  needed  money,  why 
didn't  you  come  to  me?"  exploded  the  other, 
angrily. 

"Heavens!"  drawled  Gramont,  who  was 
quite  willing  to  exasperate  young  Maillard  to 
the  limit.  "You  seem  frightfully  concerned 
about  it!  What's  the  big  idea,  anyway?  I 
don't  recall  that  any  of  us  went  into  an 
agreement  not  to  sell  if  we  wanted  to.  I 
offered  the  stock  to  your  father  at  a  discount. 
He  realized  that  it  was  a  good  buy,  and  took 
it.  What's  wrong  with  that?" 

"Nothing  wrong,  if  you  put  it  that  way," 
snapped  Maillard,  angrily.  "But  it's  a  con- 
founded sly  way  of  doing  things " 

"Now,  just  wait  right  there!"  Gramont's 
easy  smile  vanished.  "I  don't  take  that 
kind  of  talk,  Maillard.  One  more  such 
insinuation,  and  you'll  need  to  use  a  mask  at 
the  ball  to-night,  I  promise  you!  I'll  show 
you  how  sly  I  am,  my  friend!  I'm  off  in  the 
morning  to  start  work  on  that  report  I  was 


148   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

engaged  to  make.  When  the  report  comes  in, 
my  resignation  comes  with  it." 

"All  right.  Let  it  come  here  and  now, 
then."  Maillard's  tone  was  ugly.  "If  you're 
so  blamed  anxious  to  get  out  of  the  company, 
get  out!" 

"Thanks.  I'll  be  glad  to  be  relieved  of  the 
job."  Gramont  turned  and  addressed  his 
chauffeur.  "Hammond,  you'll  kindly  re- 
member this  conversation,  in  case  your  future 
testimony  is  needed — 

"Confound  you,  what  d'you  mean  talking 
that  way?"  broke  out  Maillard.  "Do  you 
suppose  I'll  deny  firing  you?" 

"I  don't  care  to  have  you  offer  any  re- 
flections on  my  actions,  Maillard,"  said  Gra- 
mont, evenly.  "My  course  in  this  matter  is 
perfectly  open  and  above  board,  which  is  more 
than  you  can  say  for  your  doings." 

"What?"  Maillard  clenched  his  stick  and 
took  a  forward  step,  anger  working  in  his 
face.  "What  the  devil  d'you  mean?" 

"Exactly  what  I  say — and  perhaps  I  can 
prove  it.  Remember  the  oil  concern  to 
which  you  persuaded  your  precious  father  to 
sell  some  of  Miss  Ledanois's  bayou  land? 
Remember  the  real  estate  company  to  which 


COMUS  149 

you  persuaded  him  to  sell  her  St.  Landry 
parish  property?  You  had  interests  in  both 
concerns;  I  don't  imagine  you'd  care  to  have 
your  share  in  those  transactions  exposed. 
Further,  I  entirely  understand  your  indigna- 
tion over  my  getting  rid  of  this  stock  before 
the  crash,  and  it  ill  becomes  you  to  assume 
any  such  attitude." 

Maillard  glared  at  him  for  a  long  moment, 
a  red  tide  of  rage  flooding  and  ebbing  from 
his  heavy  countenance.  Then,  mastering 
himself,  he  turned  and  strode  away  without 
further  speech. 

"Hurray!"  observed  Hammond,  when  he 
was  gone.  "Cap'n,  that  guy  is  off  you  for 
life!  I  bet  he'd  like  to  meet  you  alone  on  a 
dark  night!" 

Gramont  shook  his  head.  "He's  a  bad 
enemy,  all  right.  Here,  get  into  the  car!" 

He  climbed  in  beside  Hammond. 

"Don't  drive — I  want  to  speak  with  you. 
Now  that  Maillard  has  relieved  me  of  the 
necessity  of  making  any  report  to  his  com- 
pany, I'm  free,  and  glad  of  it!  I've  been 
talking  business  with  Mr.  Fell,  and  I'm  to 
have  my  own  company." 

"With  him?"  Hammond  sniffed. 


150   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

"Yes.  He's  matching  his  money  against 
mine,  and  we're  going  to  look  for  oil  on  some 
land  owned  by  Miss  Ledanois.  It'll  be  a 
close  corporation,  and  if  we  strike  oil,  we'll 
all  three  have  a  good  thing.  We  may  go 
broke,  and  we  may  go  rich;  if  you're  saving 
any  coin  out  of  your  salary  and  feel  like  tak- 
ing a  gamble,  I'll  get  you  a  bit  of  the  stock 
after  Mr.  Fell  gets  things  in  shape.  You  can 
think  it  over 

"I  don't  want  to  think  it  over,"  broke  in 
Hammond,  eagerly.  "I'm  on,  here  and  now 
— and  it  sure  is  mighty  good  of  you,  cap'n! 
Say,  I  ain't  had  any  chance  to  tell  you  before, 
but  I  pulled  two  hundred  out  o'  the  lottery 
last  week " 

"Lottery!"  Gramont  looked  at  him 
quickly.  "What  lottery?" 

Hammond  looked  a  trifle  sheepish.  "Well, 
it's  against  the  law,  o'  course,  but  they  run 
'em  right  along  just  the  same.  A  bunch  of 
the  chauffeurs  here  are  wise  to  it;  they  put  up 
some  coin  for  me  last  week,  and  as  I  was 
sayin'  I  pulled  out  two  hundred.  I  got  most 
of  it  left,  and  have  some  saved  up  on  the  side. 
I'll  stick  it  all  in,  huh?" 

Gramont  nodded.     "Well,  we'll  see  later. 


COMUS  151 

You're  free  until  morning,  sergeant.  I'm 
going  to  the  Comus  ball  to-night  as  a  guest  of 
the  Lavergnes,  and  they'll  call  for  me.  En- 
joy yourself,  keep  out  of  jail,  and  be  ready  to 
start  at  six  in  the  morning  for  Terrebonne." 

Leaving  Hammond  to  take  the  car  home, 
Gramont  headed  for  Canal  Street  to  mingle 
with  the  carnival  crowd  and  revel  in  his  new- 
found sense  of  freedom.  Now  that  he  was  his 
own  master,  he  felt  like  a  new  man. 

Overnight,  it  seemed,  all  weights  had 
dropped  from  his  shoulders.  On  the  score  of 
the  Midnight  Masquer,  he  was  vastly  re- 
lieved; all  that  was  over  and  forgotten. 
Financially,  he  had  achieved  what  was  noth- 
ing less  than  a  masterly  triumph.  In  a 
business  way,  he  was  free  of  all  ties  and  able 
to  look  forward  to  decisive  action  on  his  own 
behalf  and  that  of  a  partner  in  whom  he 
could  feel  a  perfect  reliance. 

Consequently,  he  began  really  to  enjoy 
Mardi  Gras  for  the  first  time,  and  plunged 
into  the  eddying  crowds  in  a  free  and  light- 
hearted  manner  which  had  not  been  his  for 
years. 

It  was  the  moment  for  the  carnival  spirit 
to  seize  on  him,  and  seize  him  it  did.  With 


152   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

a  boyish  abandon  he  tramped  the  streets 
merrily,  exchanging  jests  and  confetti,  shoves 
and  bladder-blows,  laughs  and  kisses.  Mad- 
ness and  reckless  gaiety  were  in  the  very 
air,  and  Gramont  drank  deep  of  these  youth- 
ful tonics.  When  at  last  he  wandered  home 
to  his  pension,  he  was  footsore,  weary,  dis- 
arranged, and  touseled — and  very  happy.  The 
wine  of  human  comradeship  is  a  good  wine. 

That  evening  the  Comus  ball,  the  most 
exclusive  revel  of  the  most  exclusive  aris- 
tocracy of  the  southland,  crowded  the  edifice  in 
which  it  was  held  to  capacity.  Here  evening 
dress  was  prescribed  for  all  the  guests.  The 
Krewe  of  Comus  alone  were  masked  and 
costumed,  in  grotesque  and  magnificent  cos- 
tumes which  had  been  in  the  making  for 
months.  The  Krewe  is  to  the  South  what 
the  Bohemian  Club  is  to  the  western  coast, 
with  the  added  enhancement  of  mystery. 

Despite  the  revels  of  the  Krewe,  however — 
despite  the  glittering  jewels,  the  barbaric 
costumes,  the  music,  the  excitement — an 
indefinable  air  of  regret,  almost  of  sadness, 
pervaded  the  entire  gathering.  This  feeling 
was  something  to  be  sensed,  rather  than  ob- 
served definitely.  Some  said,  afterward,  that 


COMUS  153 

it  was  a  premonition  of  the  terrible  event  that 
was  to  happen  this  night.  Wrong!  It  was 
because,  for  the  first  time  in  many  genera- 
tions, the  Comus  ball  was  held  in  one  of  the 
newer  public  buildings  instead  of  in  its  ac- 
customed place.  Everyone  was  speaking  of 
it.  Even  Maillard  the  banker,  that  cold  man 
of  dollars,  spoke  uneasily  of  it  when  Gramont 
encountered  him  in  the  smoking  room. 

"It  doesn't  seem  like  Comus,"  said  Mail- 
lard,  with  a  vexed  frown.  "  And  to  think  that 
we  had  just  finished  redecorating  the  Opera 
House  when  it  was  burned  down!  Comus 
will  never  be  the  same  again." 

"  I  didn't  know  you  could  feel  such  emotion 
for  a  ruined  building,  Maillard,"  said  Gramont, 
lightly.  The  banker  shrugged  a  trifle. 

"Emotion?  No.  Regret!  None  of  us,  who 
has  been  brought  up  in  the  traditions  of  the 
city  but  regarded  the  French  Opera  House 
as  the  centre  of  all  our  storied  life.  You 
can't  understand  it,  Gramont;  no  outsider  can. 
By  the  way,  you  haven't  seen  Bob?  He's 
in  costume,  but  he  might  have  spoken  to 
you 

Gramont  answered  in  the  negative,  with  a 
slight  surprise  at  the  question. 


154   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

It  was  not  long  before  he  came  to  compre- 
hend more  fully  just  what  the  loss  of  the  old 
French  Opera  House  meant  to  the  assembly. 
He  heard  comparisons  made  on  every  hand, 
regretful  allusions,  sighs  for  the  days  that 
were  no  more. 

This  present  building,  to  be  sure,  was  one 
of  the  city's  finest,  up  to  date  in  every  way, 
with  an  abundance  of  room — and  yet  everyone 
said  that  Comus  would  never  be  the  same. 
About  the  Opera  House  had  clung  the  romance 
of  many  generations.  About  it,  too,  had 
clung  the  affections  of  the  people  with  a 
fierceness  beyond  reason.  More  famous  build- 
ings had  been  allowed  to  go  to  ruin,  like  the 
Hotel  Royale,  but  the  Opera  House  had  been 
kept  in  repair  for  Mardi  Gras.  It  was  itself — 
a  landmark.  Nothing  else  would  ever  be  like 
it. 

From  his  seat  in  the  Lavergne  box  Gramont 
contented  himself  during  the  early  evening 
with  the  common  role  of  all  the  "blackcoats" 
— that  of  looking  on  idly.  More  than  once  he 
saw  Lucie  Ledanois  called  out,  among  others 
of  the  fair  sex,  as  a  dancing  partner  for  some 
member  of  the  Krewe.  None  of  the  male 
guests,  however,  was  allowed  to  participate 


COMUS  155 

in  the  festivity  until  Rex  and  his  queen  should 
arrive — at  midnight;  thus,  Gramont  saw  al- 
most nothing  of  Lucie  during  the  evening. 

There  was,  inevitably,  more  or  less  visiting 
in  boxes  and  foyers,  and  not  a  little  lounging 
in  the  smoking  room.  The  building  was  a 
huge  structure,  and  richly  furnished.  Only  a 
portion  of  it  was  in  use  by  the  Krewe;  the 
remainder  was,  of  course,  deserted  for  the 
time  being. 

While  in  search  of  smoking  companions, 
Gramont  encountered  many  of  his  acquain- 
tances, and  among  them  Doctor  Ansley  and 
Jachin  Fell.  In  order  to  enjoy  Fell's  proffered 
El  Keys  in  a  somewhat  clearer  atmosphere 
these  three  strolled  off  together  into  one  of  the 
unused  passages  leading  to  other  parts  of  the 
building.  They  opened  a  window  and  stood 
watching  the  crowd  that  surged  in  the  street 
below,  constantly  increasing  as  the  hour 
grew  later,  for  the  procession  of  Rex  would  be 
well  worth  seeing  and  nobody  meant  to  miss 
anything  upon  this  night  of  nights. 

Suddenly,  at  the  sound  of  an  approaching 
footstep,  the  three  men  turned.  The  electric 
lights  were  going  in  all  of  the  hallways,  and 
they  perceived  that  the  individual  approach- 


156   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

ing  them  was  a  member  of  the  Kreweof  Comus. 
He  was  also,  it  became  evident,  giving  a  share 
of  his  allegiance  to  Bacchus,  for  his  feet  were 
obviously  unsteady.  He  was  clad  in  a  parti- 
coloured costume,  which  was  crowned  by  an 
exaggerated  head  of  Mephisto. 

"Good  evening  to  you,  worthy  gentlemen!" 
He  came  to  a  fuddled  halt  and  stood  there, 
laughing  at  the  stares  of  the  three.  "Even- 
ing, I  say." 

They  responded  to  his  liquor-tinged  words 
with  a  laughing  reply. 

"Wonderin'  who  I  am,  aren't  you!"  he 
hiccuped.  "  Well,  don't  wonder;  'sail  between 
ol'  friends  to-night!  Tell  you  what,  m' 
friends — come  with  me  and  I'll  find  you  a 
li'l  drink,  eh?  No  prohibition  booze,  upon 
m'  honour;  real  old  Boone  pinchneck — got  it 
from  some  boys  in  Louisville,  been  savin' 
it  up  for  to-night." 

He  wagged  his  head  at  them,  and  pursued 
his  subject  in  a  half-maudlin  burst  of  con- 
fidential asurance.  An  unsteady  hand  waved 
down  the  hallway. 

"Havin'  a  little  party  in  one  of  the  rooms," 
he  continued.  "All  of  us  friends — lots  more 
fun  than  dancin'!  And  say!  I'm  going  pull 


COMUS  157 

something  great,  positively  great;  you  don't 
want  to  miss  it,  gentlemen!  You  come  along 
with  me  and  I'll  fix  it  for  you.  Come  on, 
Gramont,  that's  a  good  fellow !  You'n  I  had  a 
dis'greement  to-day — don't  matter  to-night, 
nothin'  matters  to-night,  nothin'  at  all. 
Mardi  Gras  only  comes  once  a  year,  eh? 
Come  along,  now." 

Jachin  Fell  very  civilly  refused  the  invita- 
tion, as  did  the  others.  Gramont,  who  now 
recognized  their  accoster,  was  less  civil  in  his 
refusal.  Mephisto  sadly  wagged  his  huge 
headpiece  and  regarded  them  with  vinous  re- 
gret. 

"No  'joyment  in  you  any  more?  Better 
come  along.  Tell  you,  I've  got  the  biggest 
joke  of  the  season  ready  to  pull  off — something 
rich!  Gramont,  come  on!" 

"Thanks,  no,"  responded  Gramont,  curtly. 

The  masquer  gave  up  the  struggle  and 
moved  on  down  the  empty  hallway.  The 
three  "blackcoats"  watched  in  silence  until 
the  grotesque  figure  had  vanished. 

"I  wonder  who  that  was,  now?"  mused 
Doctor  Ansley,  frowning.  "Evidently,  some- 
one who  knew  us;  at  least,  he  recognized  you, 
Gramont." 


158   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

"So  it  seemed,"  put  in  Jachin  Fell.  His 
tone,  like  his  eyes,  held  a  sombre  fire.  "A 
party  of  them  drinking,  eh?  that  will  make 
trouble.  The  Krewe  won't  like  it.  Ten  to 
one,  that  young  man  and  his  friends  will 
start  the  makings  of  a  fine  scandal  and  the 
Krewe  will  come  down  hard  on  them — 
mighty  hard.  Who  was  he,  Gramont? 
Sounded  like " 

"Young  Maillard."  At  Gramont 's  response 
a  whistle  broke  from  Doctor  Ansley.  Jachin 
Fell  nodded  assent. 

"You  took  the  words  out  of  my  mouth. 
So  Bob  is  drinking  again,  eh?  And  they've 
occupied  one  of  the  rooms  somewhere,  and 
are  enjoying  a  bit  of  liquor  and  a  card  game 
by  themselves.  Cursed  slippery  going,  as 
Eliza  said  when  she  crossed  the  ice!  The 
Krewe  will  expel  them.  Hello,  Gramont — 
where  to?" 

Gramont  tossed  his  cigar  through  the  open 
window. 

"I  think  I'll  make  my  adieux,  Fell.  I  in- 
tend to  be  up  early  in  the  morning  and  get  off 
to  work " 

"What?"  protested  Ansley  in  astonishment. 
"You  must  stay  until  Rex  comes,  at  least! 


COMUS  159 

Why,  that's  the  event  of  the  carnival!  The 
evening  hasn't  started  yet." 

"I'm  growing  old  and  sober,  doctor,"  and 
Gramont  chuckled.  "To  tell  the  truth," 
and  he  gave  Fell  a  whimsical  glance,  "I  am 
head  over  ears  in  some  new  business  matters 
which  have  actually  fired  me  with  the  divine 
afflatus  of  enthusiasm.  What's  more,  I  was 
drifting  with  the  crowds  all  afternoon,  and  I've 
just  begun  to  realize  that  I'm  dead  tired. 
Rex  or  no  Rex,  I'm  afraid  that  I'd  best  say 
good-night,  gentlemen." 

Gramont  persisted  in  his  intention,  and 
bade  the  other  two  good-night.  In  truth,  he 
cared  very  little  about  Rex,  and  a  very  great 
deal  about  getting  off  to  Bayou  Terrebonne 
early  in  the  morning.  The  oil  matter  filled 
his  mind.  He  had  formed  a  thousand  plans, 
he  was  fired  with  enthusiasm,  and  was  anxious 
to  make  his  preliminary  investigation. 

Returning  to  the  auditorium,  Gramont 
sought  out  his  hosts  and  made  his  farewells, 
although  not  without  encountering  some  op- 
position. At  length  he  was  free,  he  had  ob- 
tained his  hat  and  coat,  and  as  he  passed  out 
of  the  building  he  again  met  Fell  and  Ansley, 
who  were  finishing  their  cigars  at  the  entrance. 


160   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

He  bade  them  a  final  adieu  and  plunged  into 
the  crowd. 

It  lacked  half  an  hour  of  midnight.  The 
streets  were  filled  with  merrymakers,  who 
were  making  the  night  riotous  with  songs, 
yells,  and  noise-producing  apparatus,  antici- 
pating the  arrival  of  Rex.  For  a  little  Fell 
and  Doctor  Ansley  stood  talking,  then  tossed 
away  their  cigars  and  turned  into  the  build- 
ing. 

They  halted  in  the  foyer  before  the  appear- 
ance of  two  men — Joseph  Maillard,  looking 
extremely  agitated,  and  behind  him  old  Judge 
Forester,  who  wore  a  distinctly  worried  expres- 
sion. 

"Ah,  here  are  Fell  and  Ansley!"  exclaimed 
Maillard,  almost  with  relief.  "I — ah — my 
friends,  I  don't  suppose  you've  seen  Bob 
recently?" 

Ansley  was  silent.  Jachin  Fell,  however, 
responded  with  a  cold  nod  of  assent. 

"Yes,"  he  said  in  his  peculiarly  toneless 
manner.  "Yes,  we  have.  At  least,  I  believe 
it  was  he— 

"I'm  worried,"  said  Maillard,  anxiously, 
hurriedly.  He  made  an  expressive  gesture  of 
despair.  "He's  in  costume,  of  course.  I've 


COMUS  161 

*been  given  to  understand  that — well,  that  he 
has  been — well,  drinking." 

"He  has,"  said  Jachin  Fell,  without  any 
trace  of  compassion.  "A  number  of  the 
Krewe  are  occupying  one  of  the  rooms  in  the 
building,  and  they  must  have  been  visiting  it 
frequently.  I  trust  for  your  sake  that  the 
fact  hasn't  become  generally  known  inside?" 

Maillard  nodded.  Shame  and  anger  lay 
heavily  in  his  eyes. 

"Yes,  Jachin.  I — I  was  asked  to  exert  my 
influence  over  Bob.  The  request  came  to  me 
from  the  floor.  This — this  is  a  disgraceful 
thing  to  admit,  my  friends — 

Judge  Forester,  in  his  kindly  way,  laid  his 
hand  on  the  banker's  arm. 

"Tut,  tut,  Joseph,"  he  said,  gently,  a  fund  of 
sympathy  in  his  voice.  "Boys  will  be  boys, 
you  know;  really,  this  is  no  great  matter! 
Don't  let  it  hit  you  so  hard.  I'll  go  with  you 
to  find  the  room,  of  course.  Where  is  it, 
Jachin?" 

"We'll  all  go,"  put  in  Ansley.  "We'll 
have  a  little  party  of  our  own,  gentlemen. 
Come  on,  I  believe  we'll  be  able  to  discover  the 
place." 

The  four  men  left  the  foyer  and  started 


162   THE  MARD1  GRAS  MYSTERY 

through  the  corridors.  Among  them  was  a 
tacit  understanding^  deep  feeling  of  sympathy 
for  Joseph  Maillard,  a  bond  which  held  them 
to  his  aid  in  this  disgrace  which  had  befallen 
him.  Jachin  Fell,  who  felt  the  least  compas- 
sion or  pity,  cursed  Bob  Maillard — but  under 
his  breath. 

They  walked  through  the  empty,  lighted 
corridors,  following  the  direction  in  which  Fell 
and  Ansley  had  seen  young  Maillard  disap- 
pear. 

"I  hear,"  said  Judge  Forester  to  Doctor 
Ansley,  as  they  followed  the  other  two,  "that 
there  has  been  astonishing  news  to-day  from 
the  Midnight  Masquer.  It  seems  that  a 
number  of  people  have  received  back  property 
this  afternoon — loot  the  bandit  had  taken. 
It  came  by  mail,  special  delivery.  One  of  the 
Lavergne  boys  tells  me  that  they  received  a 
box  containing  everything  that  was  taken  at 
their  home,  even  to  cash,  with  a  note  asking 
them  to  return  the  things  to  their  guests.  It 
appears  to  have  been  some  sort  of  a  carnival 
joke,  after  all." 

"A  poor  one,  then,"  responded  Ansley, 
"and  in  doubtful  taste.  I've  heard  nothing 
of  it.  I  wouldn't  mind  getting  back  the  little 


COMUS  163 

cash  I  lost,  though  I  must  say  I'll  believe  the 
story  when  I  see  the  money " 

He  broke  off  quickly. 

As  they  turned  a  corner  of  the  corridor  to 
the  four  men  came  realization  that  they  had 
attained  their  goal.  From  one  of  the  rooms 
ahead  there  sounded  snatches  of  a  boisterous 
chorus  being  roared  forth  lustily.  As  they 
halted,  to  distinguish  from  which  door  the 
singing  proceeded,  the  chorus  was  broken  off 
by  an  abrupt  and  sudden  silence.  This  silence 
was  accentuated  by  the  preceding  noise,  as 
though  the  singers  had  checked  their  maudlin 
song  in  mid-career. 

"Damn  it!"  muttered  Maillard.  "Did 
they  hear  us  coming?  No,  that  wouldn't 
matter  a  hang  to  them — but  what  checked 
them  so  quickly?" 

"This  door,"  said  Fell,  indicating  one  to 
their  right.  He  paused  at  it,  listening,  and 
over  his  features  came  a  singular  expression. 
As  the  others  joined  him,  they  caught  a  low 
murmur  of  voices,  a  hushed  sound  of  talk,  a 
rattle  as  a  number  of  chips  fell  from  a  table. 

"Cursed  queer!"  observed  Jachin  Fell, 
frowning.  "I  wonder  what  happened  to  them 
so  abruptly?  Perhaps  the  deal  was  finished — 


164   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

they're  having  a  game.  Well,  go  ahead, 
Joseph!  We'll  back  you  up  as  a  deputation 
from  the  blackcoats,  and  if  you  need  any  moral 
support,  call  on  Judge  Forester." 

"Correct!"  assented  that  gentleman  with 
dignity.  "I'll  give  these  jackanapes  a  little 
advice!  It's  going  a  bit  far,  this  sort  of  thing; 
we  can't  have  Comus  turned  into  a  common 
drinking  bout.  Ready,  Joseph?" 

He  flung  open  the  door,  and  Maillard  en- 
tered at  his  side.  They  then  came  to  a 
startled  halt,  at  view  of  the  scene  which 
greeted  them. 

The  room  was  large  and  well  lighted,  win- 
dows and  transom  darkened  for  the  occasion. 
Tobacco  smoke  made  a  bluish  haze  in  the  air. 
In  the  centre  of  the  room  stood  a  large  table, 
littered  with  glasses  and  bottles,  with  scat- 
tered cards,  with  chips  and  money. 

About  this  table  had  been  sitting  half  a 
dozen  members  of  the  Krewe  of  Comus.  Now, 
however,  they  were  standing,  their  various 
identities  completely  concealed  by  the  gro- 
tesque costumes  which  cloaked  them.  Their 
hands  were  in  the  air. 

Standing  at  another  doorway,  midway  be- 
tween their  group  and  that  of  the  four  un- 


COMUS  165 

expected  intruders,  was  the  Midnight  Mas- 
quer— holding  them  up  at  the  point  of  his 
automatic ! 

There  was  a  moment  of  tense  and  strained 
silence,  as  every  eye  went  to  the  four  men  in 
evening  attire.  It  was  plain  what  had  cut 
short  the  boisterous  song — the  Masquer  must 
have  made  his  appearance  only  a  moment  or 
two  previously.  From  head  to  foot  he  was 
hidden  under  his  leathern  attire.  His  un- 
recognizable features,  at  this  instant,  were 
turned  slightly  toward  the  four  new  arrivals. 
It  was  obvious  that  he,  no  less  than  the  others, 
was  startled  by  this  entry. 

Maillard  was  the  first  to  break  that  silence 
of  stupefaction. 

"  By  heavens ! "  he  cried,  furiously.  "  Here's 
that  damned  villain  again — hold  him,  you! 
at  him,  everybody!" 

In  a  blind  rage,  transported  out  of  himself 
by  his  sudden  access  of  passion,  the  banker 
hurled  himself  forward.  From  the  bandit 
burst  a  cry  of  futile  warning;  the  pistol  in  his 
hand  veered  toward  his  assailant. 

This  action  precipitated  the  event.  Per- 
haps because  the  Masquer  did  not  fire  in- 
stantly, and  perhaps  because  Maillard's  mad 


166   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

action  shamed  them,  the  nearer  members  of 
the  drinking  party  hurled  themselves  at  the 
bandit.  The  threat  of  the  weapon  was  for- 
gotten, unheeded  in  the  sweeping  lust  of  the 
man-hunt.  It  seemed  that  the  fellow  feared 
to  fire;  and  about  him  closed  the  party  in  a 
surging  mass,  with  a  burst  of  sudden  shouts, 
striking  and  clutching  to  pull  him  down  and 
put  him  under  foot. 

Then,  when  it  seemed  that  they  had  him 
without  a  struggle,  the  Masquer  broke  from 
them,  swept  them  apart  and  threw  them  off, 
hurled  them  clear  away.  He  moved  as  though 
to  leap  through  the  side  doorway  whence  he 
had  come. 

With  an  oath,  Maillard  hurled  himself  for- 
ward, struck  blindly  and  furiously  at  the 
bandit,  and  fastened  upon  him  about  the 
waist.  There  was  a  surge  forward  of  bodies 
as  the  others  crowded  in  to  pull  down  the 
Masquer  before  he  could  escape.  It  looked 
then  as  though  he  were  indeed  lost — until 
the  automatic  flamed  and  roared  in  his  hand, 
its  choking  fumes  bursting  at  them.  The 
report  thundered  in  the  room;  a  second  re- 
port thundered,  deafeningly,  as  a  second  bul- 
let sought  its  mark. 


COMUS  167 

Like  a  faint  echo  to  those  shots  came  the 
slam  of  a  door.  The  Masquer  was  gone! 

After  him,  into  the  farther  room,  rushed 
some  of  the  party;  but  he  had  vanished  ut- 
terly. There  was  no  trace  of  him.  Of  course, 
he  might  have  ducked  into  any  of  the  dark 
rooms,  or  have  run  down  the  corridor,  yet  his 
complete  disappearance  confused  the  search- 
ers. After  a  moment,  however,  they  returned 
to  the  lighted  room.  The  Masquer  had  gone, 
but  behind  him  had  remained  a  more  grim  and 
terrible  masquer. 

In  the  room  which  he  had  just  left,  how- 
ever, there  had  fallen  a  dread  silence  and 
consternation.  One  of  the  masqued  drinkers 
held  an  arm  that  hung  helpless,  dripping 
blood;  but  his  hurt  passed  unseen  and  un- 
cared  for,  even  by  himself. 

Doctor  Ansley  was  kneeling  above  a  mo- 
tionless figure,  prone  on  the  dirty  floor;  and 
it  was  the  figure  of  Joseph  Maillard.  The 
physician  glanced  up,  then  rose  slowly  to 
his  feet.  He  made  a  terribly  significant 
gesture,  and  his  crisp  voice  broke  in  upon  the 
appalled  silence. 

"Dead,"  he  said,  curtly.  "Shot  twice- 
each  bullet  through  the  heart.  Judge 


168   THE  MARD1  GRAS  MYSTERY 

Forester,  I'm  afraid  there  is  no  alternative 
but  to  call  in  the  police.  Gentlemen,  you 
will  kindly  unmask — which  one  of  you  is 
Robert  Maillard?" 

Amid  a  stunned  and  horrified  silence  the 
members  of  the  Krewe  one  by  one  removed 
their  grotesque  headgear,  staring  at  the  dead 
man  whose  white  face  looked  up  at  them  with 
an  air  of  grim  accusation.  But  none  of 
them  came  forward  to  claim  kinship  with  the 
dead  man.  Bob  Maillard  was  not  in  the 
room. 

"I  think,"  said  the  toneless,  even  voice  of 
Jachin  Fell,  "that  all  of  you  gentlemen  had 
better  be  very  careful  to  say  only  what  you 
have  seen — and  know.  You  will  kindly  re- 
main here  until  I  have  summoned  the  police." 

He  left  the  room,  and  if  there  were  any 
dark  implication  hidden  in  his  words,  no  one 
seemed  to  observe  it. 


CHAPTER  IX 

On  The  Bayou 

A'  THREE  o'clock  in  the  morning  a 
great  office  building  is  not  the  most 
desolate  place  on  earth,  perhaps; 
but  it  approaches  very  closely  to  that  defini- 
tion. 

At  three  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  Ash 
Wednesday  the  great  white  Maison  Blanche 
building  was  deserted  and  desolate,  so  far  as 
its  offices  were  concerned.  The  cleaners  and 
scrub-women  had  long  since  finished  their 
tasks  and  departed.  Out  in  the  streets  the 
tag-ends  of  carnival  were  running  on  a  swiftly 
ebbing  tide.  A  single  elevator  in  the  building 
was,  however,  in  use.  A  single  suite  of  offices, 
with  carefully  drawn  blinds,  was  lighted  and 
occupied. 

They  were  not  ornate,  these  offices.  They 
consisted  of  two  rooms,  a  small  reception 
room  and  a  large  private  office,  both  lined  to 
the  ceiling  with  books,  chiefly  law  books. 


170   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

In  the  large  inner  room  were  sitting  three 
men.  One  of  the  three,  Ben  Chacherre,  sat 
in  a  chair  tipped  back  against  the  wall,  his 
eyes  closed.  From  time  to  time  he  opened 
those  sparkling  black  eyes  of  his,  and  through 
narrow-slitted  lids  directed  keen  glances  at 
the  other  two  men. 

One  of  the  men  was  the  chief  of  police. 
The  second  was  Jachin  Fell,  whose  offices 
'these  were. 

"Even  if  things  are  as  you  say,  which  I 
don't  doubt  at  all,"  said  the  chief,  slowly, 
"I  can't  believe  the  boy  did  it!  And  darn  it 
all,  if  I  pinch  him  there's  goin '  to  be  a  hell  of 
a  scandal!" 

Fell  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  made  re- 
sponse in  his  toneless  voice: 

"Chief,  you're  up  against  facts.  Those 
facts  are  bound  to  come  out  and  the  news- 
papers will  nail  your  hide  to  the  wall  in  a 
minute.  You've  a  bare  chance  to  save  your- 
self by  taking  in  young  Maillard  at  once." 

The  chief  chewed  hard  on  his  cigar.  "I 
don't  want  to  save  myself  by  putting  the 
wrong  man  behind  the  bars,"  he  returned. 
"It  sure  looks  like  he  was  the  Masquer  all 
the  while,  but  you  say  that  he  wasn't.  You 


ON  THE  BAYOU  171 

say  this  was  his  only  job — a  joke  that  turned 
out  bad." 

"Those  are  the  facts,"  said  Fell.  "I 
don't  want  to  accuse  a  man  of  crimes  I  know 
he  did  not  commit.  We  have  the  best  of 
evidence  that  he  did  commit  this  crime.  If 
the  newspapers  fasten  the  entire  Midnight 
Masquer  business  on  him,  as  they're  sure  to 
do,  we  can't  very  well  help  it.  I  have  no 
sympathy  for  the  boy." 

"Of  course  he  did  it,"  put  in  Ben  Chacherre, 
sleepily.  "Wasn't  he  caught  with  the 
goods?" 

The  others  paid  no  heed.  The  chief  in- 
dicated two  early  editions  of  the  morning 
papers,  which  lay  on  the  desk  in  front  of  Fell. 
These  papers  carried  full  accounts  of  the  return 
of  the  Midnight  Masquer's  loot,  explaining  his 
robberies  as  part  of  a  carnival  jest. 

"The  later  editions,  comin'  out  now," 
said  the  chief,  "will  crowd  all  that  stuff  off 
the  front  page  with  the  Maillard  murder. 
Darn  it,  Fell!  Whether  I  believe  it  or  not, 
I'll  have  to  arrest  the  young  fool." 

Chacherre  chuckled.  Jachin  Fell  smiled 
faintly. 

"Nothing    could    be    plainer,    chief,"    he 


172   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

responded.  "First,  Bob  Maillard  comes  to 
us  in  front  of  the  opera  house,  and  talks 
about  a  great  joke  that  he's  going  to  spring  on 
his  friends  across  the  way " 

"How'd  you  know  who  he  was?"  inter- 
jected the  chief,  shrewdly. 

"Gramont  recognized  him;  Ansley  and  I 
confirmed  the  recognition.  He  was  more  or 
less  intoxicated — chiefly  more.  Now,  young 
Maillard  was  not  in  the  room  at  the  moment 
of  the  murder — unless  he  was  the  Masquer. 
Five  minutes  afterward  he  was  found  in  a 
near-by  room,  hastily  changing  out  of  an 
aviator's  uniform  into  his  masquerade  cos- 
tume. Obviously,  he  had  assumed  the  guise 
of  the  Masquer  as  a  joke  on  his  friends,  and 
the  joke  had  a  tragic  ending.  Further,  he 
was  in  the  aviation  service  during  the  war, 
and  so  had  the  uniform  ready  to  hand.  You 
couldn't  make  anybody  believe  that  he  hasn't 
been  the  Masquer  all  the  time!" 

"Of  course,"  and  the  chief  nodded  per- 
plexedly. "It'd  be  a  clear  case — only  you 
call  me  in  and  say  that  he  wasn't  the  Masquer ! 
Damn  it,  Fell,  this  thing  has  my  goat!" 

"What's  Maillard's  story?"  struck  in  Ben 
Chacherre. 


ON  THE  BAYOU  173 

"He  denies  the  whole  thing,"  said  the 
worried  chief.  "  According  to  his  story,  which 
sounded  straight  the  way  he  tells  it,  he  meant 
to  pull  off  the  joke  on  his  friends  and  was 
dressing  in  the  Masquer's  costume  when 
he  heard  the  shots.  He  claims  that  the  shots 
startled  him  and  made  him  change  back. 
He  swears  that  he  had  not  entered  the  other 
room  at  all,  except  in  his  masquerade  clothes. 
He  says  the  murderer  must  have  been  the  real 
Masquer.  It's  likely  enough,  because  all 
young  Maillard's  crowd  knew  about  the  party 
that  was  to  be  held  in  that  room  during  the 
Comus  ball " 

"No  matter,"  said  Fell,  coldly.  "Chief, 
this  is  an  open  and  shut  case;  the  boy  was 
bound  to  lie.  That  he  killed  his  father  was  an 
accident,  of  course,  but  none  the  less  it  did 
take  place." 

"The  boy's  a  wreck  this  minute."  The 
chief  held  a  match  to  his  unlighted  cigar. 
"But  you  say  that  he  ain't  the  original 
Masquer?" 

"No!"  Fell  spoke  quickly.  "The  original 
Masquer  was  another  person,  and  had  noth- 
ing to  do  with  the  present  case.  This  informa- 
tion is  confidential  and  between  ourselves." 


174   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

"Oh,  of  course,"  assented  the  chief.  "  Well, 
I  suppose  I  got  to  pull  Maillard,  but  I  hate 
to  do  it.  I  got  a  hunch  that  he  ain't  the  right 
party." 

"Virtuous  man!"  Fell  smiled  thinly.  "Ac- 
cording to  all  the  books,  the  chief  of 
police  is  only  too  glad  to  fasten  the  crime  on 
anybody " 

"Books  be  damned!"  snorted  the  chief,  and 
leaned  forward  earnestly.  "Look  here,  Fell! 
Do  you  believe  in  your  heart  that  Maillard 
killed  his  father?" 

Fell  was  silent  a  moment  under  that  intent 
scrutiny. 

"From  the  evidence,  I  am  forced  against 
my  will  to  believe  it,"  he  said  at  last.  "Of 
course,  he'll  be  able  to  prove  that  he  was  not 
the  Masquer  on  previous  occasions;  his  alibis 
will  take  care  of  that.  Up  to  the  point 
of  the  murder,  his  story  is  all  right.  And, 
my  friend,  there  is  a  chance — a  very  slim, 
tenuous  chance — that  his  entire  story  is  true. 
In  that  case,  another  person  must  have 
appeared  as  the  Masquer  which  seems  un- 
likely  " 

"Or  else,"  put  in  Ben  Chacherre,  smoothly, 
"the  real  original  Masquer  showed  up!" 


ON  THE  BAYOU  175 

There  was  an  instant  of  silence.  Jachin 
Fell  regarded  his  henchman  with  steady  gray 
eyes.  Ben  Chacherre  met  the  look  with 
almost  a  trace  of  defiance.  The  chief  frowned 
darkly. 

"Yes,"  said  the  chief.  "That's  the  size  of 
it,  Fell.  You're  keepin'  quiet  about  the  name 
of  the  real  Masquer;  why?" 

"Because,"  said  Fell,  calmly,  "I  happen  to 
know  that  he  was  in  the  auditorium  at  the  time 
of  the  murder." 

Again  silence.  Ben  Chacherre  stared  at 
Fell,  with  amazement  and  admiration  in  his 
gaze.  "When  the  master  lies,  he  lies  magnifi- 
cently!" he  murmured  in  French. 

"Well,"  and  the  chief  gestured  despairingly, 
"I  guess  that  lets  out  the  real  Masquer,  eh?" 

"Exactly,"  assented  Fell.  "No  use  drag- 
ging his  name  into  it.  I'll  keep  at  work  on 
this,  chief,  and  if  anything  turns  up  to  clear 
young  Maillard,  I'll  be  very  glad." 

"All  right,"  grunted  the  chief,  and  rose. 
"I'll  be  on  my  way." 

He  departed.  Neither  Fell  nor  Chacherre 
moved  or  spoke  for  a  space.  When  at  length 
the  clang  of  the  elevator  door  resounded 
through  the  deserted  corridors  Ben  Chacherre 


176   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

slipped  from  his  chair  and  went  to  the  outer 
door.  He  glanced  out  into  the  hall,  closed 
the  door,  and  with  a  nod  returned  to  his  chair. 

"Well?"  Jachin  Fell  regarded  him  with  in- 
tent, searching  eyes.  "Have  you  any  light 
to  throw  on  the  occasion?" 

Chacherre's  usual  air  of  cool  impudence  was 
never  in  evidence  when  he  talked  with  Mr.  Fell. 

"No,"  he  said,  shaking  his  head.  "Ham- 
mond worked  on  the  car  until  about  nine 
o'clock,  then  beat  it  to  bed,  I  guess.  I  quit 
the  job  at  ten,  and  his  light  had  been  out  some 
time.  Well,  master,  this  is  a  queer  affair! 
There's  no  doubt  that  Gramont  pulled  it,  eh?" 

"You  think  so?"  asked  Fell. 

Chacherre  made  a  gesture  of  assent.  "  Quand 
bois  tombe,  cabri  monte — when  the  tree  falls, 
the  kid  can  climb  it!  Any  fool  can  see  that 
Gramont  was  the  man.  Don't  you  think  so 
yourself,  master?" 

Jachin  Fell  nodded. 

"Yes.  But  we've  no  evidence — everything 
lies  against  young  Maillard.  Early  in  the 
morning  Gramont  goes  to  Paradis  to  examine 
that  land  of  Miss  Ledanois'  along  the  bayou. 
He'll  probably  say  nothing  of  this  murder  to 
Hammond,  and  the  chauffeur  may  not  find 


ON  THE  BAYOU  177 

out  about  it  until  a  day  or  two — they  get  few 
newspapers  down  there. 

"Drive  down  to  Paradis  in  the  morning, 
Ben;  get  into  touch  with  Hammond,  and  dis- 
cover what  time  Gramont  got  home  to-night. 
Write  me  what  you  find  out.  Then  take 
charge  of  things  at  the  Gumberts  place. 
Make  sure  that  every  car  is  handled  right. 
A  headquarters  man  from  Mobile  will  be  here 
to-morrow  to  trace  the  Nonpareil  Twelve  that 
Gramont  now  owns." 

Chacherre  whistled  under  his  breath. 
"What?" 

Jachin  Fell  smiled  slightly  and  nodded. 
"Yes.  If  Gramont  remains  at  Paradis,  I 
may  send  him  on  down  there — I'm  not  sure 
yet.  I  intend  to  get  something  on  that  man 
Hammond." 

"But  you  can't  land  him  that  way,  master! 
He  bought  the  car — 

"And  who  sold  the  car  to  the  garage  people? 
They  bought  it  innocently."  A  peculiar  smile 
twisted  Fell's  lips  awry.  "  In  fact,  they  bought 
it  from  a  man  named  Hammond,  as  the  evi- 
dence will  show  very  clearly." 

Ben  Chacherre  started,  since  he  had  sold 
that  car  himself.  Then  a  slow  grin  came  into 


178   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

his  thin  features — a  grin  that  widened  into  a 
noiseless  laugh. 

"Master,  you  are  magnificent!"  he  said,  and 
rose.  "Well,  if  there  is  nothing  further  on 
hand,  I  shall  go  to  bed." 

"An  excellent  programme,"  said  Jachin  Fell, 
and  took  his  hat  from  the  desk.  "I  must  get 
some  sleep  myself." 

They  left  the  office  and  the  building  to- 
gether. 

Three  hours  afterward  the  dawn  had  set 
in — a  cold,  gray,  and  dismal  dawn  that  rose 
upon  a  city  littered  with  the  aftermath  of 
carnival.  "Lean  Wednesday"  it  was,  in  sober 
fact.  Thus  far,  the  city  in  general  was  ignor- 
ant of  the  tragedy  which  had  taken  place  at  the 
very  conclusion  of  its  gayest  carnival  season. 
Within  a  few  hours  business  and  social  circles 
would  beswept  by  the  fact  of  Joseph  Maillard's 
murder,  but  at  this  early  point  of  the  day  the 
city  slept.  The  morning  papers,  which  to-day 
carried  a  news  story  that  promised  to  shock 
and  stun  the  entire  community,  were  not  yet 
distributed. 

Rising  before  daylight,  Henry  Gramont  and 
Hammond  breakfasted  early  and  were  off  by 
six  in  the  car.  They  were  well  outside  town 


OAT  THE  BAYOU  179 

and  sweeping  on  their  way  to  Terrebonne 
Parish  and  the  town  of  Paradis  before  they 
realized  that  the  day  was  not  going  to  brighten 
appreciably.  Instead,  it  remained  very  cloudy 
and  gloomy,  with  a  chill  threat  of  rain  in  the 
air. 

Weather  mattered  little  to  Gramont.  When 
finally  the  excellent  highway  was  left  behind, 
and  they  started  on  the  last  lap  of  their 
seventy-mile  ride,  they  found  the  parish  roads 
execrable  and  the  going  slow.  Thus,  noon  was 
at  hand  when  they  at  length  pulled  into  Para- 
dis, the  town  closest  to  Lucie  Ledanois'  bayou 
land.  The  rain  was  still  holding  off. 

"Too  cold  to  rain,"  observed  Gramont. 
"Let's  hit  for  the  hotel  and  get  something  to 
eat.  I'll  have  to  locate  the  land,  which  is 
somewhere  near  town." 

They  discovered  the  hotel  to  be  an  ancient 
structure,  and  boasting  prices  worthy  of  La- 
fitte  and  his  buccaneers.  As  in  many  small 
towns  of  Louisiana,  however,  the  food  proved 
fit  for  a  king.  After  a  light  luncheon  of  quail, 
crayfish  bisque,  and  probably  illegal  venison, 
Gramont  sighed  regret  that  he  could  eat  no 
more,  and  set  about  inquiring  where  the 
Ledanois  farm  lay. 


180   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

There  was  very  little,  indeed,  to  Paradis, 
which  lay  on  the  bayou  but  well  away  from 
the  railroad.  It  was  a  desolate  spot,  un- 
painted  and  unkept.  The  parish  seat  of 
Houma  had  robbed  it  of  all  life  and  growth  on 
the  one  hand ;  on  the  other,  the  new  oil  and  gas 
district  had  not  yet  touched  it. 

Southward  lay  the  swamp — fully  forty  miles 
of  it,  merging  by  degrees  into  the  Gulf.  Forty 
miles  of  cypress  marsh  and  winding  bayou, 
uncharted,  unexplored  save  by  occasional 
hunters  or  semi-occasional  sheriffs.  No  man 
knew  who  or  what  might  be  in  those  swamps, 
and  no  one  cared  to  know.  The  man  who 
brought  in  fish  or  oysters  in  his  skiff  might 
be  a  bayou  fisherman,  and  he  might  be  a  mur- 
derer wanted  in  ten  states.  Curiosity  was  apt 
to  prove  extremely  unhealthy.  Like  the 
Atchafalaya,  where  chance  travellers  find 
themselves  abruptly  ordered  elsewhere,  the 
Tcrrebonne  swamps  have  their  own  secrets 
and  know  how  to  keep  them. 

Gramont  had  no  difficulty  in  locating  the 
Ledanois  land,  and  he  found  that  it  was  by 
no  means  in  the  swamp.  A  part  of  it,  lying 
closer  to  Houma,  had  been  sold  and  was 
now  included  in  the  new  oil  district;  it  was 


ON  THE  BAYOU  181 

this  portion  which  Joseph  Maillard  had  sold 
off. 

The  remainder,  and  the  largest  portion,  lay 
north  of  Paradis  and  ran  along  the  west  bank 
of  the  bayou  for  half  a  mile.  A  long-aban- 
doned farm,  it  was  high  ground,  with  the 
timber  well  cleared  off  and  excellently  located; 
but  tenants  were  hard  to  get  and  shiftless 
when  obtained,  so  that  the  place  had  not  been 
farmed  for  the  last  five  years  or  more.  After 
getting  these  facts,  Gramont  consulted  with 
Hammond. 

"We'd  better  buy  some  grub  here  in  town 
and  arrange  to  stay  a  couple  of  nights  on 
the  farm,  if  necessary,"  he  said.  "There  are 
some  buildings  there,  so  we'll  find  shelter. 
Along  the  bayou  are  summer  cottages — I 
believe  some  of  them  are  rather  pretentious 
places — and  we  ought  to  find  the  road  pretty 
decent.  It's  only  three  or  four  miles  out  of 
town." 

With  some  provisions  piled  in  the  car,  they 
set  forth.  The  road  wound  along  the  bayou 
side,  past  ancient  'Cajun  farms  and  the  squat 
homes  of  fishermen.  Here  and  there  had  been 
placed  camps  and  summer  cottages,  nestling 
amid  groups  of  huge  oaks  and  cypress,  whose 


182   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

fronds  of  silver-gray  moss  hung  in  drooping 
clusters  like  pale  and  ghostly  shrouds. 

Watching  the  road  closely,  Gramont  sud- 
denly found  the  landmarks  that  had  been 
described  to  him,  and  ordered  Hammond  to 
stop  and  turn  in  at  a  gap  in  the  fence  which 
had  once  been  an  entrance  gate. 

"Here  we  are!  Those  are  the  buildings 
off  to  the  right.  Whew!  I  should  say  it  had 
been  abandoned!  Nothing  much  left  but 
ruins.  Go  ahead!" 

Before  them,  as  they  drove  in  from  the  road 
by  a  grass-covered  drive,  showed  a  house,  shed, 
and  barn  amid  a  cluster  of  towering  trees. 
Indeed,  trees  were  everywhere  about  the  farm, 
which  had  grown  up  in  a  regular  sapling  forest. 
The  buildings  were  in  a  ruinous  state — clap- 
boards hanging  loosely,  roofs  dotted  by  gaping 
holes,  doors  and  windows  long  since  gone. 

Leaving  the  car,  Gramont,  followed  by  the 
chauffeur,  went  to  the  front  doorway  and  sur- 
veyed the  wreckage  inside. 

"What  do  you  say,  Hammond?  Think  we 
can  stop  here,  or  go  back  to  the  hotel?  It's 
not  much  of  a  run  to  town " 

Hammond  pointed  to  a  wide  fireplace  facing 
them. 


ON  THE  BAYOU  183 

"I  can  get  this  shack  cleaned  out  in  about 
half  an  hour — this  one  room,  anyhow.  When 
we  get  a  fire  goin'  in  there,  and  board  up  the 
windows  and  doors,  we  ought  to  be  comfort- 
able enough.  But  suit  yourself,  cap'n!  It's 
your  funeral." 

Gramont  laughed.  "All  right.  Go  ahead 
and  clean  up,  then,  and  if  rain  comes  down  we 
can  camp  here.  Be  sure  and  look  for  snakes 
and  vermin.  The  floor  seems  sound,  and  if 
there's  plenty  of  moss  on  the  trees,  we  can  make 
up  comfortable  beds.  Too  bad  you're  not  a 
fisherman,  or  we  might  get  a  fresh  fish  out  of 
the  bayou " 

"I  got  some  tackle  in  town,"  and  Hammond 
grinned  widely. 

"  Good  work !  Then  make  yourself  at  home 
and  go  to  it.  We've  most  of  the  afternoon 
before  us." 

Gramont  left  the  house,  and  headed  down 
toward  the  bayou  shore. 

He  took  a  letter  from  his  pocket,  opened  it, 
and  glanced  over  it  anew.  It  was  an  old  letter, 
one  written  him  nearly  two  years  previously 
by  Lucie  Ledanois.  It  had  been  written 
merely  in  the  endeavour  to  distract  the 
thoughts  of  a  wounded  soldier,  to  bring  his 


184   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

mind  to  Louisiana,  away  from  the  stricken 
fields  of  France.  In  the  letter  Lucie  had 
described  some  of  the  more  interesting  features 
of  Bayou  Terrebonne — the  oyster  and  shrimp 
fleets,  the  Chinese  and  Filipino  villages  along 
the  Gulf,  the  far-spread  cypress  swamps;  the 
bubbling  fountains,  natural  curiosities,  that 
broke  up  through  the  streams  and  bayous  of 
the  whole  wide  parish — fountains  that  were 
caused  by  gas  seeping  up  from  the  earth's  in- 
terior, and  breaking  through. 

Gramont  knew  that  plans  were  already  afoot 
to  tap  this  field  of  natural  gas  and  pipe  it  to 
New  Orleans.  Oil  had  been  found,  too,  and 
all  the  state  was  now  oil-mad.  Fortunes  were 
being  made  daily,  and  other  fortunes  were 
being  lost  daily  by  those  who  dealt  with  oil- 
stocks  instead  of  with  oil. 

"Those  gas-fountains  did  the  work!"  re- 
flected Gramont.  "And  according  to  this 
letter,  there's  one  of  those  fountains  here  in  the 
bayou,  close  to  her  property.  'Just  opposite 
the  dock,'  she  says.  The  first  thing  is  to  find 
the  dock,  then  the  fountain.  After  that,  we'll 
decide  if  it's  true  mineral  gas.  If  it  is,  then  the 
work's  done — for  I'll  sure  take  a  chance  on 
finding  oil  near  it!" 


THE  BAYOU  185 

Gramont  came  to  the  bayou  and  began 
searching  his  way  along  the  thick  and  high 
fringe  of  bushes  and  saplings  that  girded  the 
water's  edge.  Presently  he  came  upon  the 
ruined  evidences  of  what  had  once  been  a 
small  boat  shed.  Not  far  from  this  he  found 
the  dock  referred  to  in  the  letter;  nothing  was 
left  of  it  except  a  few  spiles  protruding  from  the 
surface  of  the  water.  But  he  had  no  need  to 
look  farther.  Directly  before  him,  he  saw 
that  which  he  was  seeking. 

A  dozen  feet  out  from  shore  the  water  was 
rising  and  falling  in  a  continuous  dome  or 
fountain  of  highly  charged  bubbles  that  rose 
a  foot  above  the  surface.  Gramont  stared  at 
it,  motionless.  He  watched  it  for  a  space — 
then,  abruptly,  he  started.  It  was  a  violent 
start,  a  start  of  sheer  amazement  and  incre- 
dulity. 

He  leaned  forward,  staring  no  longer  at  the 
gas  dome,  but  at  the  water  closer  inshore. 
For  a  moment  he  thought  that  his  senses  had 
deceived  him,  then  he  saw  that  the  thing  was 
there  indeed,  there  beyond  any  doubt — a 
very  faint  trace  of  iridescent  light  that  played 
over  the  surface  of  the  water. 

"  It  can't  be  possible ! "  he  muttered,  bending 


186   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

farther  over.  "Such  a  thing  happens  too 
rarely " 

His  heart  pounded  violently;  excitement 
sent  the  blood  rushing  to  his  brain  in  blinding 
swirls.  He  was  gripped  by  the  gold  fever  that 
comes  upon  a  man  when  he  makes  the  astound- 
ing discovery  of  untold  wealth  lying  at  his  feet, 
passed  over  and  disregarded  by  other  and  less- 
discerning  men  for  days  and  years! 

It  was  oil,  no  question  about  it.  An  ex- 
tremely slight  quantity,  true;  so  slight  a 
quantity  that  there  was  no  film  on  the  water, 
no  discernible  taste  to  the  water.  Gramont 
brought  it  to  his  mouth  and  rose,  shaking  his 
head. 

Where  did  it  come  from?  It  had  no  connec- 
tion with  the  gas  bubbles — at  least,  it  did  not 
come  from  the  dome  of  water  and  gas.  How 
long  he  stood  there  staring  Gramont  did  not 
know.  His  brain  was  afire  with  the  possi- 
bilities. At  length  he  stirred  into  action  and 
started  up  the  bayou  bank,  from  time  to  time 
halting  to  search  the  water  below  him,  to  make 
sure  that  he  could  still  discern  the  faint  iri- 
descence. 

He  followed  it  rod  by  rod,  and  found  that  it 
rapidly  increased  in  strength.  It  must  come 


ON  THE  BAYOU  187 

from  some  very  tiny  surface  seepage  close  at 
hand,  that  was  lost  in  the  bayou  almost  as 
rapidly  as  it  came  from  the  earth-depths.  Only 
accidentally  would  a  man  see  it — not  unless  he 
were  searching  the  water  close  to  the  bank, 
and  even  then  only  by  the  grace  of  chance. 

Suddenly  Gramont  saw  that  he  had  lost  the 
sign.  He  halted. 

No,  not  lost,  either!  Just  ahead  of  him  was 
a  patch  of  reeds,  and  a  recession  of  the  shore. 
He  advanced  again.  Inside  the  reeds  he  found 
the  oily  smear,  still  so  faint  that  he  could  only 
detect  it  at  certain  angles.  Glancing  up,  he 
could  see  a  fence  at  a  little  distance,  evidently 
the  boundary  fence  of  the  Ledanois  land;  the 
bushes  and  trees  thinned  out  here,  and  on 
ahead  was  cleared  ground.  He  saw,  through 
the  bushes,  glimpses  of  buildings. 

Violent  disappointment  seized  him.  Was 
he  to  lose  this  discovery,  after  all?  Was  he 
to  find  that  the  seepage  came  from  ground 
belonging  to  someone  else?  No — he  stepped 
back  hastily,  barely  in  time  to  avoid  stumbling 
into  a  tiny  trickle  of  water,  a  rivulet  that  ran 
down  into  the  bayou,  a  tributary  so  insignifi- 
cant that  it  was  invisible  ten  feet  distant! 
And  on  the  surface  a  faint  iridescence. 


188   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

Excitement  rising  anew  within  him,  Gra- 
mont  turned  and  followed  this  rivulet,  his 
eyes  aflame  with  eagerness.  It  led  him  for 
twenty  feet,  and  ceased  abruptly,  in  a  bubbling 
spring  that  welled  from  a  patch  of  low,  tree- 
enclosed  land.  Gramont  felt  his  feet  sinking 
in  grass,  and  saw  that  there  was  a  dip  in 
the  ground  hereabouts,  a  swampy  little  section 
all  to  itself.  He  picked  a  dry  spot  and  lay 
down  on  his  face,  searching  the  water  with  his 
eyes. 

Moment  after  moment  he  lay  there,  watch- 
ing. Presently  he  found  the  slight  trickle  of 
oil  again — a  trickle  so  faint  and  slim  that  even 
here,  on  the  surface  of  the  tiny  rivulet,  it  could 
be  discerned  only  with  great  difficulty.  A 
very  thin  seepage,  concluded  Gramont;  a 
thin  oil,  of  course.  So  faint  a  little  thing,  to 
mean  so  much ! 

It  came  from  the  Ledanois  land,  no  doubt 
of  it.  What  did  that  matter,  though?  His 
eyes  widened  with  flaming  thoughts  as  he  gazed 
down  at  the  slender  thread  of  water.  No 
matter  at  all  where  this  came  from — the  main 
point  was  proven  by  it !  There  was  oil  here  for 
the  finding,  oil  down  in  the  thousands  of  feet 
below,  oil  so  thick  and  abundant  that  it  forced 


ON  THE  BAYOU  189 

itself  up  through  the  earth  fissures  to  find  an 
outlet! 

"Instead  of  going  down  five  or  six  thousand 
feet,"  he  thought,  exultantly,  "we  may  have 
to  go  down  only  as  many  hundred.  But  first 
we  must  get  an  option  or  a  lease  on  all  the 
land  roundabout — all  we  can  secure!  There 
will  be  a  tremendous  boom  the  minute  this 
news  breaks.  If  we  get  those  options,  we  can 
sell  them  over  again  at  a  million  per  cent, 
profit,  and  even  if  we  don't  strike  oil  in  paying 
quantities,  we'll  regain  the  cost  of  our  drilling ! 
And  to  think  of  the  years  this  has  been  here, 
waiting  for  someone " 

Suddenly  he  started  violently.  An  abrupt 
crashing  of  feet  among  the  bushes,  an  outbreak 
of  voices,  had  sounded  not  far  away — just  the 
other  side  of  the  boundary  fence.  He  was 
wakened  from  his  dreams,  and  started  to  rise. 
Then  he  relaxed  his  muscles  and  lay  quiet, 
astonishment  seizing  him ;  for  he  heard  his  own 
name  mentioned  in  a  voice  that  was  strange  to 
him. 


CHAPTER  X 

Murder 

rTT^HE  voice  was  strange  to  Gramont,  yet 
he  had  a  vague  recollection  of  having  at 

JL  some  time  heard  it  before.  It  was  a 
jaunty  and  impudent  voice,  very  self-assured 
— yet  it  bore  a  startled  and  uneasy  note,  as 
though  the  speaker  had  just  come  unaware 
upon  the  man  whom  he  addressed. 

"  Howdy,  sheriff ! "  it  said.  "  Didn't  see  you 
in  there — what  you  doin'  so  far  away  from 
Houma,  eh?" 

"Why,  I've  been  looking  over  the  place 
around  here,"  responded  another  voice,  which 
was  dry  and  grim.  "I  know  you,  Ben  Cha- 
cherre,  and  I  think  I'll  take  you  along  with 
me.  Just  come  from  New  Orleans,  did 
you?" 

"Me?  Take  me?"  The  voice  of  Cha- 
cherre  shrilled  up  suddenly  in  alarm.  "Look 
here,  sheriff,  it  wasn't  me  done  it!  It  was 
Gramont " 

190 


MURDER  191 

There  came  silence.  Not  a  sound  broke 
the  stillness  of  the  late  afternoon. 

Gramont,  listening,  lay  bewildered  and 
breathless.  Ben  Chacherre,  the  sneak  thief — 
how  had  Chacherre  come  here?  Gramont 
knew  nothing  of  any  tie  between  Jachin  Fell 
and  Chacherre;  he  could  only  lie  in  the  grass 
and  wonder  at  the  man's  presence.  What 
"place"  was  it  that  the  sheriff  of  Houma 
had  been  looking  over?  And  what  was  it 
that  he,  Gramont,  was  supposed  to  have 
done? 

Confused  and  wondering,  Gramont  waited. 
And,  as  he  waited,  he  caught  a  soft  sound  from 
the  marshy  ground  beside  him — a  faint  "plop" 
as  though  some  object  had  fallen  close  by  on 
the  wet  grass.  At  the  moment  he  paid  no 
heed  to  this  sound,  for  again  the  uncanny  si- 
lence had  fallen. 

Listening,  Gramont  fancied  that  he  caught 
slow,  stealthy  footsteps  amid  the  undergrowth, 
but  derided  the  fancy  as  sheer  imagination. 
His  brain  was  busy  with  this  new  problem. 
Houma,  he  knew,  was  the  seat  of  the  parish  or 
county.  This  Ben  Chacherre  appeared  to 
have  suddenly  and  unexpectedly  encountered 
the  sheriff,  to  his  obvious  alarm,  and  the  sheriff 


192   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

had  for  some  reason  decided  to  arrest  him;  so 
much  was  clear. 

Chacherre  had  something  to  do  with  the 
"place" — did  that  mean  the  adjacent  prop- 
erty, or  the  Ledanois  farm?  In  his  puzzled 
bewilderment  over  this  imbroglio  Gramont  for 
the  moment  quite  forgot  the  trickle  of  oil  at 
his  feet. 

But  now  the  deep  silence  became  unnatural 
and  sinister.  What  had  happened?  Surely, 
Ben  Chacherre  had  not  been  arrested  and  taken 
away  in  such  silence!  Why  had  the  voices  so 
abruptly  ceased?  Vaguely  uneasy,  startled  by 
the  prolongation  of  that  intense  stillness, 
Gramont  rose  to  his  feet  and  peered  among  the 
trees. 

The  two  speakers  seemed  to  have  departed; 
he  could  descry  nobody  in  sight.  A  step  to 
one  side  gave  Gramont  a  view  of  the  land  ad- 
joining the  Ledanois  place.  This  was  cleared 
of  all  brush,  and  under  some  immense  oaks  to 
the  far  left  he  had  a  glimpse  of  a  large  summer 
cottage,  boarded  up  and  apparently  deserted. 
Nearer  at  hand,  however,  he  saw  other  build- 
ings, and  these  drew  his  attention.  He  heard 
the  throbbing  pound  of  a  motor  at  work,  and 
as  there  was  no  power  line  along  here,  the  place 


MURDER  193 

evidently  had  its  own  electrical  plant.  He 
scrutinized  the  scene  before  him  appraisingly. 

There  were  two  large  buildings  here.  One 
seemed  to  be  a  large  barn,  closed,  the  other 
was  a  long,  low  shed  which  was  too  large  to 
be  a  garage.  The  door  of  this  was  open,  and 
before  the  opening  Gramont  saw  three  men 
standing  in  talk;  he  recognized  none  of  them. 
Two  of  the  talkers  were  clad  in  greasy  overalls, 
and  the  third  figure  showed  the  flash  of  a  collar. 
The  sheriff,  Ben  Chacherre,  and  some  other 
man,  thought  Gramont.  He  would  not  have 
known  Chacherre  had  he  encountered  him  face 
to  face.  To  him,  the  man  was  a  name  only. 

The  mention  of  his  own  name  by  Chacherre 
impelled  him  to  go  forward  and  demand  some 
explanation.  Then  it  occurred  to  him  that 
perhaps  he  had  made  a  mistake;  it  would  have 
been  very  easy,  for  he  was  not  certain  that 
Chacherre  had  referred  to  him.  There  could 
be  other  Gramonts,  or  other  men  whose  name 
would  have  much  the  same  sound  in  a  Creole 
mouth. 

"I'd  better  attend  to  my  own  business," 
thought  Gramont,  and  turned  away.  He  no- 
ticed that  the  motor  had  ceased  its  work. 
"Wonder  what  rich  chap  can  be  down  here  at 


194   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

his  summer  cottage  this  time  of  year?  May 
be  only  a  caretaker,  though.  I'd  better  give 
all  my  attention  to  this  oil,  and  let  other 
things  alone." 

He  retraced  his  steps  to  the  bayou  bank  and 
turned  back  toward  the  house.  As  he  did  so, 
Hammond  appeared  coming  toward  him,  knife 
in  hand. 

"I'm  going  to  cut  me  a  pole  and  land  a  cou- 
ple o'fish  for  supper,"  announced  the  chauffeur, 
grinning.  "  Got  things  cleaned  up  fine,  cap'n ! 
You  won't  know  the  old  shack." 

"Good  enough,"  said  Gramont.  "Here, 
step  over  this  way!  I  want  to  show  you 
something." 

He  led  Hammond  to  the  rivulet  and  pointed 
out  the  thin  film  of  oil  on  the  surface. 

"There's  our  golden  fortune,  sergeant!  Oil 
actually  coming  out  of  the  ground !  It  doesn't 
happen  very  often,  but  it  does  happen — and 
this  is  one  of  the  times.  I'll  not  bother  to  look 
around  any  farther." 

"Glory  be!"  said  Hammond,  staring  at  the 
rivulet.  "Want  to  hit  back  for  town?" 

"No;  we  couldn't  get  back  until  sometime 
to-night,  and  the  roads  aren't  very  good  for 
night  work.  I'm  going  to  get  some  leases 


MURDER  195 

around  here — perhaps  I  can  do  it  right  away, 
and  we'll  start  back  in  the  morning.  Go  ahead 
and  get  your  fish." 

Regaining  the  house,  he  saw  that  Hammond 
had  indeed  cleaned  up  in  great  style,  and  had 
the  main  room  looking  clean  as  a  pin,  with  a 
fire  popping  on  the  hearth.  He  did  not  pause 
here,  but  went  to  the  car,  got  in,  and  started  it. 
He  drove  back  to  the  road,  and  followed  this 
toward  town  for  a  few  rods,  turning  in  at  a 
large  and  very  decent-looking  farmhouse  that 
he  had  observed  while  passing  it  on  the  way 
out. 

He  found  the  owner,  an  intelligent-appearing 
Creole,  driving  in  some  cows  for  milking,  and 
was  a  little  startled  to  realize  that  the  after- 
noon was  so  late.  When  he  addressed  the 
farmer  in  French,  he  received  a  cordial  reply, 
and  discovered  that  this  man  owned  the  land 
across  the  road  from  the  Ledanois  place — that 
'his  farm,  in  fact,  covered  several  hundred  acres. 

"Who  owns  the  land  next  to  the  Ledanois 
place?"  inquired  Gramont. 

"I  sold  that  off  my  land  a  couple  of  years 
ago,"  replied  the  other.  "A  man  from  New 
Orleans  wanted  it  for  a  summer  place — a  busi- 
ness man  there,  Isidore  Gumberts." 


196   THE  MARD1  GRAB  MYSTERY 

Gumberts — "Memphis  Izzy"  Gumberts! 
The  name  flashed  to  Gramont's  mind,  and 
brought  the  recollection  of  a  conversation  with 
Hammond.  Why,  Gumberts  was  the  famous 
crook  of  whom  Hammond  had  spoken. 

"I  saw  the  sheriff  awhile  ago,  heading  up  the 
road,"  observed  the  Creole.  "Did  you  meet 
him?" 

Gramont  shook  his  head.  "No,  but  I  saw 
several  men  at  the  Gumberts  place.  Perhaps 
he  was  there " 

"Not  there,  I  guess,"  and  the  farmer 
laughed.  "Those  fellows  have  rented  the 
place  from  Gumberts,!  hear;  they're  inventors, 
and  quiet  enough  men.  You're  a  stranger 
here?" 

Gramont  introduced  himself  as  a  friend  of 
Miss  Ledanois,  and  stated  frankly  that  he  was 
looking  for  oil  and  hoped  to  drill  on  her  land. 

"I'd  like  a  lease  option  from  you,"  he  went 
on.  "I  don't  want  to  buy  your  land  at  all; 
what  I  want  is  a  right  to  drill  for  oil  on  it,  in 
case  any  shows  up  on  Miss  Ledanois'  land. 
It's  all  a  gamble,  you  know.  I'll  give  you  a 
hundred  dollars  for  the  lease,  and  the  usual 
eighth  interest  in  any  oil  that's  found.  I've 
no  lease  blanks  with  me,  but  if  you'll  give  me 


MURDER  197 

the  option,  a  signed  memorandum  will  be  en- 
tirely sufficient." 

The  farmer  regarded  oil  as  a  joke,  and  said 
so.  The  hundred  dollars,  however,  and  the 
prospective  eighth  interest,  were  sufficient  to 
induce  him  to  part  with  the  option  without 
any  delay.  He  was  only  too  glad  to  get  the 
thing  done  with  at  once,  and  to  pocket  Gra- 
mont's  money. 

Gramont  drove  away,  and  was  just  coming 
to  the  Ledanois  drive  when  he  suddenly 
threw  on  the  brakes  and  halted  the  car, 
listening.  From  somewhere  ahead  of  him — the 
Gumberts  place,  he  thought  instantly — echoed 
a  shot,  and  several  faint  shouts.  Then  silence 
again. 

Gramont  paused,  indecisive.  The  sheriff 
was  making  an  arrest,  he  thought.  A  hundred 
possibilities  flitted  through  his  brain,  sug- 
gested by  the  sinister  combination  of  Memphis 
Izzy,  known  even  to  Hammond  as  a  prince 
among  crooks,  with  this  secluded  place  leased 
by  "inventors."  Bootlegging?  Counterfeit- 
ing? 

As  he  paused,  thus,  he  suddenly  started;  he 
was  certain  that  he  had  caught  the  tones  of 
Hammond,  as  though  in  a  sudden  uplifted 


198   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

oath  of  anger.  Gramont  threw  in  his  clutch 
and  sent  the  car  jumping  forward — he  remem- 
bered that  he  had  left  Hammond  beside  the 
rivulet,  close  to  the  Gumberts  property.  What 
had  happened? 

He  came,  after  a  moment  of  impatience,  to 
an  open  gate  whose  drive  led  to  the  Gumberts 
place.  Before  him,  as  he  turned  in,  unfolded 
a  startling  scene.  Three  men,  the  same  three 
whom  he  had  seen  from  the  bushes,  were  stand- 
ing in  front  of  the  low  shed ;  two  of  them  held 
rifles,  the  third,  one  of  the  "inventors"  in 
overalls,  was  winding  a  bandage  about  a  bleed- 
ing hand.  The  two  rifles  were  loosely  levelled 
at  Hammond,  who  stood  in  the  centre  of  the 
group  with  his  arms  in  the  air. 

Whatever  had  happened,  Hammond  had 
evidently  not  been  easily  captured.  His 
countenance  was  somewhat  battered,  and  the 
one  captor  who  wore  a  collar  was  bleeding 
copiously  from  a  cut  cheek.  The  three  turned 
as  Gramont's  car  drove  up,  and  Hammond 
gave  an  ejaculation  of  relief. 

"Here  he  is  now " 

"Shut  up!"  snapped  one  of  his  armed  cap- 
tors in  an  ugly  tone.  "Hurry  up,  Chacherre 
— get  a  rope  and  tie  this  gink!" 


MURDER  199 

Gramont  leaped  from  the  car  and  strode 
forward. 

"What's  been  going  on  here?  "he  demanded, 
sharply.  * '  Hammond ' ' 

"I  found  a  dead  man  over  in  them  bushes," 
shot  out  Hammond,  "and  these  guys  jumped 
me  before  I  seen  'em.  They  claim  I  done 
it- 

"A  dead  man!"  repeated  Gramont,  and 
looked  at  the  three.  "What  do  you  mean?" 

"Give  him  the  spiel,  Chacherre,"  growled 
one  of  them.  Ben  Chacherre  stepped  forward, 
his  bold  eyes  fastened  on  those  of  Gramont 
with  a  look  of  defiance. 

"The  sheriff  was  here  some  time  ago,  looking 
for  a  stolen  boat,"  he  said,  "and  went  off 
toward  the  Ledanois  place.  We  were  follow- 
ing, in  order  to  help  him  search,  when  we  came 
upon  this  man  standing  in  the  bushes,  over  the 
body  of  the  sheriff.  A  knife  was  in  his  hand, 
and  the  sheriff  had  been  stabbed  to  death. 
He  drew  a  pistol  and  shot  one  of  us " 

Gramont  was  staggered  for  a  moment. 
"Wait!"  he  exclaimed.  "Hammond,  how 
much  of  this  is  true?" 

"What  I'm  tellin'  you,  cap'n,"  answered 
Hammond,  doggedly.  "I  found  a  man  layin' 


200   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

there  and  was  looking  at  him  when  these  guys 
jumped  me.  I  shot  that  fellow  in  the  arm, 
all  right,  then  they  grabbed  my  gun  and  got 
me  down.  That's  all." 

The  sheriff — murdered! 

Into  the  mind  of  Gramont  leaped  that  brief 
conversation  which  he  had  overheard  between 
Ben  Chacherre  and  the  sheriff;  the  strange, 
unnatural  silence  which  had  concluded  that 
broken-off  conversation.  He  stared  from 
Hammond  to  the  others,  speechless  for  the 
moment,  yet  with  hot  words  rising  impetu- 
ously in  him. 

Now  he  noticed  that  Chacherre  and  his 
two  companions  were  watching  him  very 
intently,  and  were  slightly  circling  out.  He 
sensed  an  acquaintance  among  all  these  men. 
He  saw  that  the  wounded  man  had  finished 
his  bandaging,  and  was  now  holding  his 
unwounded  hand  in  his  jacket  pocket,  bulkily, 
menacingly. 

Danger  flashed  upon  Gramont — flashed  up- 
on him  vividly  and  with  startling  clearness. 
He  realized  that  anything  was  possible  in  this 
isolated  spot — this  spot  where  murder  had  so 
lately  been  consummated !  He  checked  on  his 
very  lips  what  he  had  been  about  to  blurt  forth ; 


MURDER  201 

at  this  instant,  Hammond  voiced  the  thought 
in  his  mind. 

"It's  a  frame-up!"  said  the  chauffeur, 
angrily. 

"That's  likely,  isn't  it?"  Chacherre  flung  the 
words  in  a  sneer,  but  with  a  covert  glance  at 
Gramont.  "This  fellow  is  your  chauffeur, 
ain't  he?  Well,  we  got  to  take  him  in  to 
Houma,  that's  all." 

"Where's  the  sheriff's  body?"  demanded 
Gramont,  quietly. 

"Over  there,"  Chacherre  gestured.  "We 
ain't  had  a  chance  to  bring  him  back  yet — 
this  fellow  kept  us  busy.  Maybe  you  want  to 
frame  up  an  alibi  for  him?" 

Gramont  paid  no  attention  to  the  sneering 
tone  of  this  last.  He  regarded  Chacherre 
fixedly,  thinking  hard,  keeping  himself  well  in 
hand. 

"You  say  the  sheriff  was  here,  then 
went  over  toward  the  Ledanois  land?"  he 
asked.  "Did  he  go  alone,  or  were  you  with 
him?" 

"We  were  fixin'  to  follow  him,"  asserted 
Chacherre,  confidently.  This  was  all  Gramont 
wanted  to  know — that  the  man  was  lying. 
"We  were  trailin'  along  after  him  when  he 


202   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

stepped  into  the  bushes.  This  man  of  yours 
was  standing  over  him  with  a  knife " 

"I  was,  too,  when  they  found  me — I  was 
cuttin'  me  a  fishpole,"  said  Hammond,  sulkily. 
He  was  plainly  beginning  to  be  impressed  and 
alarmed  by  the  evidence  against  him.  Gra- 
mont  only  nodded. 

"No  one  saw  the  actual  murder,  then?" 

"No  need  for  it,"  said  Chacherre,  brazenly. 
"When  we  found  him  that  way!  Eh?" 

"I  suppose  not,"  answered  Gramont,  his 
eyes  fastened  thoughtfully  on  Hammond. 
The  latter  caught  the  look,  let  his  jaw  fall  in 
astonishment,  then  flushed  and  compressed  his 
lips — and  waited.  Gramont  glanced  at  Cha- 
cherre, and  launched  a  chance  shaft. 

"You're  Ben  Chacherre,  aren't  you?  Do 
you  work  for  Mr.  Fell?" 

The  chance  shot  scored.  "Yes,"  said  Cha- 
cherre, his  eyes  narrowing. 

"What  are  you  doing  here,  then?" 

For  an  instant  Chacherre  was  off  guard. 
He  did  not  know  how  much — or  little — Gra- 
mont knew;  but  he  did  know  that  Gramont 
was  aware  who  had  taken  the  loot  of  the  Mid- 
night Masquer  from  the  luggage  compartment 
of  the  car.  This  knowledge,  very  naturally, 


MURDER  203 

threw  him  back  on  the  defence  of  which  he  was 
most  sure. 

"I  came  on  an  errand  for  my  master,"  he 
said,  and  with  those  words  gave  the  game  into 
Gramont's  hands. 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence.  Gramont 
stood  apparently  in  musing  thought,  conscious 
that  every  eye  was  fastened  upon  him,  and  that 
one  false  move  would  now  spell  disaster.  He 
gave  no  sign  of  the  tremendous  shock  that 
Chacherre's  words  had  just  given  him;  when 
he  spoke,  it  was  quietly  and  coolly: 

"Then  your  master  is  evidently  associated 
with  Memphis  Izzy  Gumberts,  who  owns  this 
place  here.  Is  that  right?" 

Both  Hammond  and  Chacherre's  two  friends 
started  at  this. 

"I  don't  know  anything  about  that,"  re- 
turned Chacherre,  with  a  shrug  which  did  not 
entirely  conceal  his  uneasiness.  "I  know 
that  we've  got  a  murderer  here,  and  that  we'll 
have  to  dispose  of  him.  Do  you  object?" 

"Of  course  not,"  said  Gramont,  calmly. 
"Step  aside  and  give  me  a  moment  in  private 
with  Hammond.  Then  by  all  means  take 
him  in  to  Houma.  I'd  suggest  that  you  tie 
him  up,  or  make  use  of  handcuffs  if  the  sheriff 


204   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

brought  any  along.  Then  you'd  better  take 
in  the  body  of  the  sheriff  also.  Hammond,  a 
word  with  you!" 

This  totally  unexpected  acquiescence  on  the 
part  of  Gramont  seemed  to  stun  Chacherre 
into  inaction.  He  half  moved,  as  though  un- 
certain whether  to  bar  Gramont  from  the 
prisoner,  then  he  stepped  aside  as  Gramont 
advanced.  A  gesture  to  his  two  companions 
prevented  them  from  interfering. 

"Keep  'em  covered,  though,"  he  said,  shift- 
ing his  own  rifle  slightly  and  watching  with  a 
scowl  of  suspicion. 

Gramont  ignored  him  and  went  up  to  Ham- 
mond, with  a  look  of  warning. 

"You'll  have  to  submit  to  this,  old  man," 
he  said,  in  a  tone  that  the  others  could  not 
overhear.  "Don't  dream  that  I'm  deserting 
you;  but  I  want  a  good  look  at  this  place  if 
all  three  of  them  go  away.  They  must  not 
suspect " 

"Cap'n,  look  out!"  broke  in  Hammond, 
urgently.  "This  here  is  a  gang — the  whole 
thing  is  a  frame-up  on  me!" 

"I  know  it — I  was  present  when  the  sheriff 
was  murdered;  but  keep  quiet.  I'll  come  to 
Houma  later  to-night  and  see  you."  He 


MURDER  205 

turned  away  with  a  shrug  as  though  Hammond 
had  denied  him  some  favour,  and  lifted  his 
voice.  "Chacherre!  How  are  you  to  take 
this  man  into  town?  How  did  you  get  here? 
Will  you  need  to  use  my  car?" 

"No."  The  Creole  jerked  his  head  toward 
the  barn.  "I  came  in  Mr.  Fell's  car — it's  got 
a  sprung  axle  and  is  laid  up.  We'll  take  him 
back  in  another  one." 

"Very  well,"  Gramont  paused  and  glanced 
around.  "This  is  a  terrible  blow,  men.  I 
never  dreamed  that  Hammond  was  a  murderer 
or  could  be  one !  You  don't  know  of  any  mo- 
tive for  the  crime?" 

They  shook  their  heads,  but  suspicion  was 
dying  from  their  eyes.  Gramont  glanced  again 
at  his  chauffeur. 

"I'll  not  abandon  you,  Hammond,"  he  said, 
severely,  coldly.  "I'll  stop  in  at  Houma  and 
see  that  you  have  a  lawyer.  I  think,  gentle- 
men, we  had  better  attend  to  bringing  in  the 
body  of  the  sheriff,  eh?" 

The  wounded  man  dodged  into  the  barn 
and  returned  with  a  strip  of  rope.  Chacherre 
took  this,  and  firmly  bound  Hammond's  arms, 
then  forced  him  to  sit  down  and  bound  his 
ankles. 


206   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

"You  watch  him,"  he  ordered  the  wounded 
member  of  the  trio.  "We'll  get  the  sheriff." 

Allowing  Chacherre  and  his  companion  to 
take  the  lead,  Gramont  went  with  them  to  the 
place  where  the  murdered  officer  lay.  As  he 
went,  the  conviction  grew  more  sure  within 
him  that,  when  he  lay  there  by  the  rivulet, 
he  had  actually  heard  the  last  words  uttered  by 
the  sheriff;  that  Chacherre  had  committed  the 
murder  in  that  moment — a  noiseless,  deadly 
stab!  That  Hammond  could  or  would  have 
done  it  he  knew  was  absurd. 

They  found  the  murdered  man  lying  among 
the  bushes.  He  had  been  stabbed  under  the 
fifth  rib— the  knife  had  gone  direct  to  the  heart. 
Chacherre  announced  that  he  had  Hammond's 
knife  as  evidence  and  Gramont  merely  nodded 
his  head. 

Lifting  the  body  between  them,  they  bore 
it  back  to  the  barn. 

"Now,"  said  Gramont,  quickly,  "I'm  off 
for  Houma — if  I  don't  miss  my  road!  You 
men  will  be  right  along?" 

"In  a  jiffy,"  said  Chacherre,  promptly. 

Gramont  climbed  into  his  car  and  drove 
away.  He  had  no  fear  of  anything  happening 
to  Hammond;  the  evidence  against  the  latter 


MURDER  207 

was  damning,  and  with  three  men  to  swear  him 
into  a  hangman's  noose,  they  would  bring  him 
to  jail  safe  enough. 

"A  clever  devil,  that  Chacherre!"  he 
thought,  grimly.  "We're  up  against  a  gang, 
beyond  any  doubt.  Now,  if  they  don't  sus- 
pect me — 

He  turned  in  at  the  Ledanois  gate,  knowing 
himself  to  be  beyond  sight  or  hearing  of  the 
Gumberts  place.  He  drove  the  car  away 
from  the  house,  and  into  the  thick  of  the 
densest  bush-growth  that  he  could  find  where 
it  was  well  concealed  from  sight.  Then,  on 
foot,  he  made  his  way  along  the  bank  of  the 
bayou  until  he  had  come  to  the  rivulet  where 
oil  showed. 

Here  he  paused,  concealing  himself  and 
gaining  a  place  where  he  could  get  a  view  of 
the  Gumberts  land.  He  saw  Chacherre  and 
Hammond  there,  beside  the  body  of  the  sher- 
iff; the  other  two  men  were  swinging  open  the 
barn  door.  They  disappeared  inside,  and  a 
moment  later  Gramont  heard  the  whirr  of  an 
engine  starting.  A  car  backed  out  into  the 
yard — a  seven-passenger  Cadillac — and  halted. 

The  three  men  lifted  the  body  of  the  sheriff 
into  the  tonneau.  Chacherre  took  the  wheel, 


208   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

Hammond  being  bundled  in  beside  him.  The 
other  two  men  climbed  in  beside  the  body, 
rifles  in  hand.  Chacherre  started  the  car 
toward  the  road. 

"All  fine!"  thought  Gramont  with  a  thrill 
of  exultation.  "They've  all  cleared  out  and  left 
the  place  to  me — and  I  want  a  look  at  that 
place." 

Suddenly,  as  he  stood  there,  he  remembered 
the  slight  "plump"  that  he  had  heard  during 
that  interminable  silence  which  had  followed 
the  conversation  between  the  sheriff  and  Ben 
Chacherre.  It  was  a  sound  as  though  some- 
thing had  fallen  near  him  in  the  soggy  ground. 

The  remembrance  startled  him  strangely. 
He  visualized  an  excited  murderer  standing 
beside  his  victim,  knife  in  hand;  he  visualized 
the  abhorrence  which  must  have  seized  the  man 
for  a  moment — the  abhorrence  which  must  have 
caused  him  to  do  something  in  that  moment 
which  in  a  cooler  time  he  would  not  have  done. 

Gramont  turned  toward  the  little  marshy 
spot  where  he  had  lain  listening.  He  bent 
down,  searching  the  wet  ground,  heedless  that 
the  water  soaked  into  his  boots.  And,  after  a 
minute,  a  low  exclamation  of  satisfaction  broke 
from  him  as  he  found  what  he  sought. 


CHAPTER  XI 

The  Gangsters 

GRAMONT  left  the  covert  and  walked 
forward. 
He  was  thinking  about  that  odd 
mention  of  Jachin  Fell — had  Chacherre  lied  in 
saying  he  had  come  here  on  his  master's  busi- 
ness?    Perhaps.     The  man  had  come  in  Fell's 
car,  and  would  not  hesitate  to  lie  about  using 
the  car.     For  the  moment,  Gramont  put  away 
the  circumstance,  but  did  not  forget  it. 

He  walked  openly  toward  the  Gumberts 
buildings,  thinking  that  he  would  have  time 
for  a  good  look  around  the  place  before  dusk 
fell;  he  would  then  get  off  for  Houma,  and 
attend  to  Hammond's  defence. 

As  for  the  place  before  him,  he  was  con- 
vinced that  it  was  abandoned.  Had  any  one, 
other  than  Chacherre  and  his  two  friends,  been 
about  the  buildings,  the  late  excitement  would 
have  brought  out  the  fact.  No  one  had  ap- 
peared, arid  the  buildings  seemed  vacant. 

909 


210   THE  MARD1  GRAS  MYSTERY 

Gramont's  intent  was  simple  and  straight- 
forward. In  case  he  found,  as  he  expected  to 
find,  any  evidence  of  illegal  occupation  about 
the  place — as  the  sheriff  seemed  to  have  dis- 
covered to  his  cost — he  would  lay  Chacherre 
and  the  other  two  men  by  the  heels  that  night 
in  Houma.  He  would  then  go  on  to  New 
Orleans  and  have  Gumberts  arrested,  although 
he  had  no  expectation  that  the  master  crook 
could  be  held  on  the  murder-accessory  charge. 
If  this  place  were  used  for  the  lotteries,  even, 
he  was  fairly  certain  that  Memphis  Izzy  would 
have  his  own  tracks  covered.  The  men  higher 
up  always  did. 

He  walked  straight  in  upon  the  barn.  It 
loomed  before  him,  closed,  lurid  in  the  level 
rays  of  the  westering  sun.  The  doors  in  front 
had  been  only  loosely  swung  together  and 
Gramont  found  them  unlocked.  He  stood 
in  the  opening,  and  surprise  gripped  him. 
He  was  held  motionless,  gazing  with  astonished 
wonder  at  the  sight  confronting  him. 

Directly  before  him  was  a  small  roadster, 
one  which  he  remembered  to  have  seen  Jachin 
Fell  using;  in  this  car,  doubtless,  Ben  Cha- 
cherre had  driven  from  the  city.  He  recalled 
the  fact  later,  with  poignant  regret  for  a  lost 


THE  GANGSTERS  211 

opportunity.  But,  at  the  present  moment, 
he  was  lost  in  amazement  at  the  great  num- 
ber of  other  cars  presenting  themselves  to  his 
view. 

They  were  lined  up  as  deep  as  the  barn 
would  hold  them,  crammed  into  every  avail- 
able foot  of  space;  well  over  a  dozen  cars,  he 
reckoned  swiftly.  What  was  more,  all  were 
cars  of  the  highest  class,  with  the  exception  of 
Fell's  roadster.  Directly  before  him  were  two 
which  he  was  well  aware  must  have  cost  close 
upon  ten  thousand  each.  What  did  this  mean  ? 
Certainly  no  one  man  or  one  group  of  men,  in 
this  back-country  spot,  could  expect  to  use 
such  an  accumulation  of  expensive  cars! 

Gramont  glanced  around,  but  found  no  trace 
of  machinery  in  the  barn.  Remembering  the 
motor  that  he  had  heard,  he  turned  from  the 
doorway  in  frowning  perplexity.  He  strode 
on  toward  the  long  shed  which  stood  closer  to 
the  house.  At  the  end  of  this  shed  was  a  door, 
and  when  he  tried  it,  Gramont  found  it  un- 
locked. It  swung  open  to  his  hand,  and  he 
stepped  inside. 

At  first  he  paused,  confused  by  the  vague 
objects  around,  for  it  was  quite  dark  in  here. 
A  moment,  and  his  eyes  grew  accustomed  to 


212   THE  MARD1  GRAS  MYSTERY 

the  gloomier  lighting.  Details  came  to  him: 
all  around  were  cars  and  fragments  of  cars, 
chassis  and  bodies  in  all  stages  of  dismember- 
ment. Still  more  cars! 

He  slowly  advanced  to  a  long  bench  that 
ran  the  length  of  the  shop  beneath  the  win- 
dows. A  shop,  indeed — a  shop,  he  quickly  per- 
ceived, fitted  with  every  tool  and  machine 
necessary  to  the  most  complete  automobile 
repair  establishment !  Even  an  air-brush  out- 
fit, at  one  end,  together  with  a  drying  com- 
partment, spoke  of  repaint  jobs. 

Comprehension  was  slowly  dawning  upon 
the  mind  of  Gramont;  a  moment  later  it  be- 
came certainty,  when  he  came  to  a  stop  before 
an  automobile  engine  lying  on  the  bench. 
He  found  it  to  be  the  engine  from  a  Stutz — 
the  latest  multi-valve  type  adopted  by  that 
make  of  car,  and  this  particular  bit  of  machin- 
ery looked  like  new. 

Gramont  inspected  it,  and  he  saw  that  the 
men  had  done  their  work  well.  The  original 
engine  number  had  been  carefully  dug  out, 
and  the  place  as  carefully  filled  and  levelled 
with  metal.  Beside  it  a  new  number  had  been 
stamped.  A  glance  at  the  electrical  equip- 
ment around  showed  that  these  workers  had 


THE  GANGSTERS  213 

every  appliance  with  which  to  turn  out  the 
most  finished  of  jobs. 

As  he  straightened  up  from  the  engine  Gra- 
mont's  eyes  fell  upon  a  typed  sheet  of  paper 
affixed  to  the  wall  above  the  bench.  His  gaze 
widened  as  he  inspected  it  by  the  failing  light. 
Upon  that  paper  was  a  list  of  cars.  After  each 
car  was  a  series  of  numbers  plainly  comprising 
the  original  numbers  of  the  engine,  body, 
radiator,  and  other  component  parts,  followed 
by  another  series  of  new  numbers  to  be  inserted. 
That  sheet  of  paper  showed  brains,  organiz- 
ing ability,  care,  and  attention  to  the  last 
detail! 

Here  was  the  most  carefully  planned  and 
thorough  system  of  automobile  thievery  that 
Gramont  had  ever  heard  of.  He  stood  mo- 
tionless, knowing  that  this  typed  sheet  of  paper 
in  itself  was  damning  evidence  against  the 
whole  gang  of  workers.  What  was  more  to 
the  point,  that  paper  could  be  traced;  the 
typewriting  could  be  traced  to  the  man  higher 
up — doubtless  Memphis  Izzy  himself!  These 
men  ran  in  cars  by  the  wholesale,  probably 
from  states  adjacent  to  Louisiana.  Here,  at 
this  secluded  point  on  the  bayou,  they  changed 
the  cars  completely  about,  in  number,  paint, 


214   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

style  of  body,  and  then  probably  got  rid  of  the 
new  product  in  New  Orleans. 

Gramont  stood  motionless.  Surprise  had 
taken  hold  of  him,  and  even  a  feeling  of  slight 
dismay.  This  was  not  at  all  what  he  had 
hoped  to  find  there.  He  had  thought  to  come 
upon  some  traces  of  the  lottery  game 

"Seen  all  you  want,  bo?  "  said  a  voice  behind 
him. 

Gramont  turned.  He  found  himself  gazing 
directly  into  an  automotic  pistol  over  which 
glittered  a  pair  of  blazing  eyes.  The  man  was 
a  stranger  to  him.  The  place  had  not  been 
deserted,  after  all.  He  was  caught. 

"  Who  are  you  ?"  demanded  Gramont,  quietly. 

"Me?  "  The  stranger  was  unsmiling,  deadly. 
In  those  glittering  eyes  Gramont  read  the 
ferocity  of  an  animal  at  bay.  "I  s'pose  you 
would  like  to  know  that,  huh?  I  guess  you 
know  enough  right  now  to  get  all  that's  comin' 
to  you,  bo !  Got  any  particular  business  here? 
Speak  up  quick!" 

Gramont  was  silent.  The  other  sneered  at 
him,  viciously. 

"Hurry  up!  Turn  over  the  name  and  ad- 
dress, and  I'll  notify  the  survivin'  relatives. 
Name,  please?" 


THE  GANGSTERS  215 

"Henry  Gramont,"  was  the  calm  response. 
"Don't  get  hasty,  my  friend.  Didn't  you  see 
me  here  a  little  while  ago  with  Chacherre  and 
the  other  boys?" 

"  What's  that?  "  The  glittering  eyes  flamed 
up  with  suspicion  and  distrust.  "Here — 
with  them?  No,  I  didn't.  I  been  away  fishing 
all  afternoon.  What  the  hell  you  doing  around 
this  joint?" 

"Your  best  scheme,"  said  Gramont,  coldly, 
"is  to  change  your  style  of  tone,  and  to  do  it 
in  a  hurry!  If  you  don't  know  what's  hap- 
pened here  this  afternoon,  don't  ask  me;  you'll 
find  out  soon  enough  when  the  other  boys  get 
back.  You'd  better  tell  them  I'm  going  to 
get  in  touch  with  Memphis  Izzy  the  minute  I 
get  back  to  the  city,  and  that  the  less  talking 
they  do 

"What  the  hell's  all  this?"  demanded  the 
other  again,  but  with  a  softening  of  accent. 
The  moniker  of  Gumberts  had  its  effect,  and 
seemed  to  shake  the  man  instantly.  Gramont 
smiled  as  he  perceived  that  the  game  was  won. 

"I  never  heard  of  no  Gramont,"  went  on 
the  other,  quickly.  "What  you  doin'  here?" 

"You're  due  to  learn  a  good  many  things,  I 
imagine,"  said  Gramont,  carelessly.  "As  for 


216   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

me,  I  happened  on  the  place  largely  by  acci- 
dent. I  happen  to  be  in  partnership  with  a 
man  named  Jachin  Fell,  and  I  came  out  here 
on  business " 

To  Gramont's  astonishment  the  pistol  was 
lowered  instantly.  It  was  well  that  he  ceased 
speaking,  for  what  he  had  just  said  proved  to 
be  open  to  misconstruction,  and  if  he  had  said 
any  more  he  would  have  spoiled  it.  For  the 
man  facing  him  was  staring  at  him  in  mingled 
disgust  and  surprise. 

"You're  in  partnership  with  the  boss  /" 
came  the  astounding  words.  "Well,  why  in 
hell  didn't  you  say  all  that  in  the  first  place, 
instead  o'  beefin'  around?  That's  no  way  to 
butt  in,  and  me  thinking  you  was  some  dick 
on  the  job!  Got  anything  to  prove  that  you 
ain't  pullin'  something  cute  on  me?" 

"Do  you  know  Fell's  writing?"  asked  Gra- 
mont,  with  difficulty  forcing  himself  to  meet 
the  situation  coherently.  Jachin  Fell — the 
boss! 

"I  know  his  mitt,  all  right." 

From  his  pocket  Gramont  produced  a  paper 
— the  memorandum  or  agreement  which  he 
had  drawn  up  with  Fell  on  the  previous  after- 
noon, relating  to  the  oil  company.  The  other 


THE  GANGSTERS  217 

man  took  it  and  switched  on  an  electric  light 
bulb  overhead.  In  this  glare  he  was  revealed 
as  a  ratty  little  individual  with  open  mouth 
and  teeth  hanging  out — an  adenoidal  type,  and 
certainly  a  criminal  type. 

It  crossed  the  mind  of  Gramont  that  one 
blow  would  do  the  work — but  he  stood  motion- 
less. No  sudden  game  would  help  him  here. 
The  discovery  that  Fell  was  "the  boss"  para- 
lyzed him  completely.  He  had  never  dreamed 
of  such  a  contingency.  Fell,  of  all  men ! 

Jachin  Fell  the  "  boss  "  of  this  establishment ! 
Jachin  Fell  the  man  higher  up — the  brains 
behind  this  criminal  organization!  It  was  a 
perfect  thunderbolt  to  Gramont.  Now  he 
understood  why  Chacherre  was  in  the  employ 
of  Fell — why  no  arrest  of  the  man  had  been 
possible!  Now  he  perceived  that  Chacherre 
must  have  told  the  truth  about  coming  here  on 
business  for  Fell.  Reaching  farther  back, 
he  saw  that  Fell  must  have  received  the  loot  of 
the  Midnight  Masquer,  must  have  turned  it 
over  to  Lucie  Ledanois — 

Did  she  know? 

"  All  right,  Mr.  Gramont."  The  ratty  little 
man  turned  to  him  with  evident  change  of 
front.  "We  ain't  takin'  no  chances  here, 


218   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

y'understand.  Got  quite  a  shipment  of  cars 
comin'  in  from  Texas,  and  we're  tryin'  to  get 
some  o'  these  boats  cleaned  out  to  make  room. 
Bring  out  any  orders?" 

Gramont's  brain  worked  fast. 

By  overcoming  this  guttersnipe  he  might 
have  the  whole  place  at  his  mercy — but  that 
was  not  what  he  wanted.  He  suddenly  real- 
ized that  he  had  other  and  more  important  fish 
to  fry  in  New  Orleans.  Gumberts  was  there. 
Fell  was  there.  What  he  must  do  demanded 
time,  and  his  best  play  was  to  gain  all  the  time 
possible,  and  to  prevent  this  gang  from  suspect- 
ing him  in  any  way. 

"Did  you  see  Ben  Chacherre?"  he  count- 
ered. 

"Uh-huh — seen  him  just  after  he  come. 
Gumberts  will  be  out  day  after  to-morrow,  he 
said.  The  boss  is  framin'  some  sort  of  deal 
on  a  guy  that  he  wants  laid  away — some  guy 
name  o'  Hammond.  Chacherre  is  running  it. 
He  figgers  on  gettin'  Hammond  on  account  of 
some  car  that's  bein'  hunted  up " 

Gramont  laughed  suddenly,  for  there  was  a 
grim  humour  about  the  thing.  So  Jachin  Fell 
wanted  to  "get  something"  on  poor  Ham- 
mond !  And  Chacherre  had  seized  the  golden 


THE  GANGSTERS  219 

opportunity  that  presented  itself  this  after- 
noon— instead  of  "getting"  Hammond  for  the 
theft  of  a  car,  Chacherre  had  coolly  fastened 
murder  upon  him ! 

"Ben  is  one  smart  man;  I  expect  he  thinks 
the  gods  are  working  for  him,"  said  Gramont, 
thinly.  "So  you  don't  know  what  happened 
to-day,  eh?  Well,  it's  great  news,  but  I've 
got  no  time  to  talk  about  it.  They'll  tell  you 
when  they  get  back " 

"Where'd  they  go?"  demanded  the  other. 

"Houma.  Now  listen  close!  Chacherre 
did  not  know  that  I  was  in  partnership  with  the 
boss,  get  me?  I  didn't  want  to  tell  all  the 
crowd  in  front  of  him.  Between  you  and  me, 
the  boss  isn't  any  too  sure  about  Ben " 

"Say,  I  get  you  there!"  broke  in  the  other, 
sagely.  "I  tells  him  six  months  ago  to  watch 
out  for  that  Creole  guy!" 

"Exactly.  You  can  tell  the  boys  about  me 
when  they  come  back — I  don't  suppose  Ben 
will  be  with  them.  Now,  I've  been  looking 
over  that  place  next  door " 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  the  other,  suddenly. 
"Sure!  The  boss  said  that  one  of  his  friends 
would  be  down  to " 

"I'm  the  one — or  one  of  them,"  and  Gra- 


220   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

mont  chuckled  as  he  reflected  on  the  ludicrous 
aspects  of  the  whole  affair.  "I'm  going  to 
Houma  now,  and  then  back  to  the  city.  My 
car's  over  next  door.  Mr.  Fell  wanted  me  to 
warn  you  to  lay  low  on  the  lottery  business. 
He's  got  a  notion  that  someone's  been  talk- 
ing." 

"You  go  tell  the  boss,"  retorted  the  other 
in  an  aggrieved  tone,  "to  keep  his  eye  on  the 
guys  that  can  talk!  Who'd  we  talk  to  here? 
Besides,  we're  workin'  our  heads  off  on  these 
here  boats.  Memphis  Izzy  is  attending  to  the 
lottery — he's  got  the  whole  layout  up  to  the 
house,  and  we  ain't  touching  it,  see?  Tell  the 
boss  all  that." 

"Tell  him  yourself,"  Gramont  laughed, 
good-humouredly .  "  Gumberts  is  coming  out 
day  after  to-morrow,  is  he  ?  That'll  be  Friday. 
Hm!  I  think  that  I'd  better  bring  Fell  out 
here  the  same  day,  if  I  can  make  it.  I  proba- 
bly won't  see  Gumberts  until  then — I'm  not 
working  in  with  him  and  he  doesn't  know  me 
yet — but  I'll  try  and  get  out  here  on  Friday 
with  Fell.  Now,  I'll  have  to  beat  it  in  a  hurry. 
Any  message  to  send?" 

"Not  me,"  was  the  answer. 

Gramont  scarcely  knew  how  he  departed, 


THE  GANGSTERS  221 

until  he  found  himself  scrambling  back  through 
the  underbrush  of  the  Ledanois  place. 
.  He  rushed  into  the  house,  found  the  fire  had 
died  down  beyond  all  danger,  and  swiftly  re- 
moved the  few  things  they  had  taken  from  the 
car.  Carrying  these,  he  stumbled  back  to 
where  he  had  hidden  the  automobile.  He 
scarcely  dared  to  think,  scarcely  dared  to  con- 
gratulate himself  on  the  luck  that  had  befallen 
him,  until  he  found  himself  in  his  own  car  once 
more,  and  with  open  throttle  sweeping  out 
through  the  twilight  toward  Paradis  and 
Houma  beyond.  A  whirlwind  of  mad  exulta- 
tion was  seething  within  him — exultation  as 
sudden  and  tremendous  as  the  past  weeks 
had  been  uneventful  and  dragging! 

Gramont,  in  common  with  many  others,  had 
heard  much  indefinite  rumour  of  an  under- 
ground lottery  game  that  was  being  worked 
among  the  negroes  of  the  state  and  the  Chi- 
nese villages  along  the  Gulf  coast.  And  now 
he  knew  definitely. 

Lotteries  have  never  died  out  in  Louisiana 
since  the  brave  old  days  of  the  government- 
ordained  gambles,  laws  and  ordinances  to  the 
contrary.  No  laws  can  make  the  yellow  man 
and  the  black  man  forego  the  get-rich-quick 


222   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

heritage  of  their  fathers.  On  the  Pacific  coast 
lotteries  obtain  and  will  obtain  wherever  there 
is  a  Chinatown.  In  Louisiana  the  days  of  the 
grand  lottery  have  never  been  forgotten.  The 
last  two  years  of  high  wages  had  made  every 
Negro  wealthy,  comparatively  speaking.  The 
lottery  mongers  would  naturally  find  them  a 
ripe  harvest  for  the  picking.  And  who  would 
gravitate  to  this  harvest  field  if  not  the  great 
Gumberts,  the  uncaught  Memphis  Izzy,  the 
promoter  who  had  never  been  "mugged!" 

Here,  at  one  stroke,  stumbling  on  the  thing 
by  sheer  blind  accident,  Gramont  had  located 
the  nucleus  of  the  whole  business! 

Gradually  his  brain  cooled  to  the  realization 
of  what  work  lay  before  him.  He  was  through 
Paradis,  almost  without  seeing  the  town,  and 
switched  on  his  lights  as  he  took  the  highway 
to  Houma.  Sober  reflection  seized  him.  Not 
only  was  this  crowd  of  crooks  working  a  lottery, 
but  they  were  also  managing  a  stupendous 
thievery  of  automobiles,  in  which  cars  were 
looted  by  wholesale!  And  the  man  at  the 
head  of  it  all,  the  man  above  Memphis  Izzy  and 
his  crooks,  was  Jachin  Fell  of  New  Orleans. 

Did  Lucie  Ledanois  dream  such  a  thkig? 
No.  Gramont  dismissed  the  question  at  once. 


THE  GANGSTERS  223 

Fell  was  not  an  unusual  type  of  man.  There 
were  many  Jachin  Fells  throughout  the  coun- 
try, he  reflected.  Men  who  applied  their 
brains  to  crooked  work,  who  kept  themselves 
above  any  actual  share  in  the  work,  and  who 
profited  hugely  by  tribute  money  from  every 
crook  in  every  crime. 

To  the  communities  in  which  they  lived 
such  men  were  patterns  of  all  that  wealthy 
gentlemen  should  be.  Seldom,  except  per- 
haps in  gossip  of  the  underworld,  was  their 
connection  with  crime  ever  suspected.  And 
— this  thought  was  sobering  to  Gramont — 
never  did  they  come  within  danger  of  retribu- 
tion at  the  hands  of  the  law.  Their  ramifica- 
tions extended  too  far  into  politics;  and  the 
governors  of  some  southern  states  have  un- 
limited powers  of  pardon. 

"This  is  a  big  day!"  reflected  Gramont, 
dismissing  the  sinister  suggestion  of  this  last 
thought.  "A  big  day!  What  it  will  lead  to, 
I  don't  know.  Not  the  least  of  it  is  the  finan- 
cial end  of  it — the  oil  seepage!  That  little 
iridescent  trickle  of  oil  on  the  water  means 
that  money  worries  are  over,  both  for  me  and 
for  Lucie.  I'm  sorry  that  I  am  mixed  up  with 
Fell;  I've  enough  money  of  my  own  to  drill  at 


224   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

least  one  good  well,  and  one  is  all  we'll  need 
to  bring  in  oil  on  that  place.  Well,  we'll  see 
what  turns  up!  My  first  job  is  to  make  sure 
Hammond  is  safe,  and  to  relieve  his  mind.  I'll 
have  to  leave  him  in  jail,  I  suppose '' 

Why  did  Fell  want  to  "get  something"  on 
Hammond?  To  this  there  was  no  answer. 

He  drove  into  Houma  to  find  the  town  abuzz 
with  excitement,  for  the  news  of  the  sheriff's 
murder  had  stirred  the  place  wildly.  Proceed- 
ing straight  to  the  court  house,  Gramont  en- 
countered Ben  Chacherre  as  he  was  leaving 
the  car. 

"Hello,  there!"  he  exclaimed.  "Lost  my 
road.  Where's  Hammond?" 

Chacherre  jerked  his  head  toward  the  court 
house. 

"In  yonder.  Say,  are  you  going  back  to 
the  city  to-night?" 

"Yes."     Gramont  regarded  him.     "Why?" 

"Take  me  back,  will  you?  I've  missed  the 
last  up  train,  and  if  you're  goin'  back  anyhow 
I  won't  have  to  hire  a  car.  I  can  drive  for 
you,  and  we'll  make  it  in  a  couple  of  hours, 
before  midnight  sure." 

"Hop  in,"  said  Gramont,  nodding  toward 
the  car.  "I'll  be  back  as  soon  as  I've  had  a 


THE  GANGSTERS  M5 

word  with  Hammond.  No  danger  of  his 
getting  lynched,  I  hope?" 

"Not  a  chance,"  said  the  other,  conclusively. 
"Six  deputies  up  there  now,  and  quite  a  bunch 
of  ex-soldiers  comin'  to  stand  guard.  You 
goin'  to  fight  the  case?" 

"No,"  said  Gramont.  "Can't  fight  a  sure 
thing,  can  you?  I'm  sorry  for  him,  though." 

Chacherre  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  got 
into  the  car. 

Gramont  was  much  relieved  to  find  that 
there  was  no  danger  of  lynching,  which  had 
been  his  one  fear.  It  was  only  with  much 
persuasion  that  he  got  past  the  guard  and  into 
the  court  house,  where  he  was  received  by  a 
number  of  deputies  in  charge  of  the  situa- 
tion. 

After  conferring  with  them  at  some  length, 
he  was  grudgingly  taken  to  the  cell  occupied 
by  Hammond.  The  latter  received  him  with 
a  wide  grin,  and  gave  no  signs  of  the  gruelling 
ordeal  through  which  he  had  passed. 

"Listen,  old  man,"  said  Gramont,  earnestly. 
"Will  you  play  out  the  game  hard  to  the  end? 
I'll  have  to  leave  you  here  for  two  days.  At 
the  end  of  that  time  you'll  be  free." 

The  listening  deputies  sniffed,  but  Ham- 


226   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

mond  merely  grinned  again  and  put  a  hand 
through  the  bars. 

"Whatever  you  say,  cap'n,"  he  rejoined.  "  It 
sure  looks  bad " 

"Don't  you  think  it,"  said  Gramont,  cheer- 
fully. "A  lot  of  things  have  happened  since 
I  saw  you  last!  I've  got  the  real  murderer 
right  where  I  want  him — but  I  can't  have  him 
arrested  yet." 

"It's  a  gang,"  said  Hammond.  "You 
watch  out,  cap'n,  I  heard  'em  say  somethin' 
about  Memphis  Izzy — remember  the  guy  I  told 
you  about  one  day?  Well,  this  is  no  piker's 
game !  We're  up  against  somethin'  solid 

"I  know  it,"  and  Gramont  nodded.  He 
turned  to  the  deputies.  "Gentlemen,  you 
have  my  address  if  you  wish  to  communicate 
with  me.  I  shall  be  back  here  day  after  to- 
morrow— at  least,  before  midnight  of  that 
day.  I  warn  you,  that  if  anything  happens  to 
this  man  in  the  meantime,  you  shall  be  held 
personally  responsible.  He  is  innocent." 

"Looks  like  we'd  better  hold  you,  too,"  said 
one  of  the  men.  "You  seem  to  know  a  lot!" 

Gramont  looked  at  him  a  moment. 

"I  know  enough  to  tell  you  where  to  head 
in  if  you  try  any  funny  work  here,"  he  said, 


THE  GANGSTERS  227 

evenly.     "Gentlemen,    thank    you    for   per- 
mitting the  interview!     I'll  see  you  later." 

The  coroner's  jury  had  already  adjudged 
Hammond  guilty  of  the  murder.  Returning 
to  the  car,  Gramont  had  Ben  Chacherre  drive 
to  a  restaurant,  where  they  got  a  bite  to  eat. 
Twenty  minutes  later  they  were  on  their  way 
to  New  Orleans — and  Gramont  learned  for  the 
first  time  of  Joseph  Maillard's  murder  by  the 
Midnight  Masquer,  and  of  the  arrest  of  Bob 
Maillard  for  the  crime. 


CHAPTER  XII 

The  Ultimatum 

UPON  the  following  morning  Gramont 
called   both   Jachin   Fell  and   Lucie 
Ledanois  over  the  telephone.     He  ac- 
quainted them  briefly  with  the  result  of  his  oil 
investigation,  and  arranged  a  meeting  for  ten 
o'clock,  at  Fell's  office. 

It  was  slightly  before  ten  when  Gramont 
called  with  the  car  for  Lucie.  Under  the  spell 
of  her  smiling  eagerness,  the  harshness  vanished 
from  his  face;  it  returned  again  a  moment 
later,  for  he  saw  that  she,  too,  was  changed. 
There  was  above  them  both  a  cloud.  That  of 
Gramont  was  secret  and  brooding.  As  for 
Lucie,  she  was  in  mourning.  The  murder  of 
Joseph  Maillard,  the  arrest  and  undoubted 
guilt  of  Bob  Maillard,  dwarfed  all  else  in  her 
mind.  Even  the  news  of  the  oil  seepage,  and 
the  fact  that  she  was  probably  now  on  the  road 
to  wealth,  appeared  to  make  little  impression 
upon  her. 


THE  ULTIMATUM  229 

"Thank  heaven,"  she  said, earnestly, as  they 
drove  toward  Canal  Street,  "that  so  far  as  you 
are  concerned,  Henry,  the  Midnight  Masquer 
affair  was  all  cleared  up  before  this  tragedy 
took  place!  It  was  fearfully  imprudent  of 
you- 

"Yes,"  answered  Gramont,  soberly,  reading 
her  thought.  "I  can  realize  my  own  folly 
now.  If  this  affair  were  to  be  laid  at  my  door, 
some  kind  of  a  case  might  he  made  up  against 
me,  and  it  would  seem  plausible.  But,  for- 
tunately, I  was  out  of  it  in  time.  Were  we 
merely  characters  in  a  standardized  detective 
story,  I  suppose  I'd  be  arrested  and  deluged 
with  suspense  and  clues  and  so  forth." 

"Your  escape  was  too  narrow  to  joke 
over,  Henry,"  she  reproved  him,  gravely. 

"I'm  not  joking,  my  dear  Lucie.  I  learned 
nothing  about  the  tragedy  until  late  last  night. 
From  what  I  can  find  in  the  papers,  it  seems 
agreed  that  Bob  was  not  the  real  Masquer, 
but  had  assumed  that  guise  for  a  joke.  A 
tragic  joke !  Since  he  was  undoubtedly  drunk 
at  the  time,  his  story  can't  be  relied  upon 
as  very  convincing.  And  yet,  it's  frightfully 
hard  to  believe  that,  even  by  accident,  a  son 
should  have  shot  down  his  own  father " 


230   THE  MARD1  GRAS  MYSTERY 

"Don't!"  Lucie  winced  a  little.  "In  spite 
of  all  the  evidence  against  him,  in  spite  of 
the  way  he  was  found  with  that  aviation 
uniform,  it's  still  awful  to  believe.  I  can't 
realize  that  it  has  actually  happened." 

"According  to  the  papers,  poor  Mrs.  Mail- 
lard  has  gone  to  pieces.  No  wonder." 

"Yes.  I  was  there  with  her  all  day  yester- 
day, and  shall  go  again  to-day.  They  say 
Bob  is  terribly  broken  up.  He  sent  for  his 
mother,  and  she  refused  to  see  him.  I  don't 
know  how  it  is  all  going  to  end!  Do  you 
think  his  story  might  be  true — that  some- 
body else  might  have  acted  as  the  Masquer 
that  night?" 

Gramont  shook  his  head. 

"It's  possible,"  he  said,  reluctantly,  "yet 
it  hardly  seems  very  probable.  And  now, 
Lucie,  I'm  very  sorry  indeed  to  say  it — but 
you  must  prepare  yourself  against  another 
shock  in  the  near  future." 

"What  do  you  mean?    About  the  oil " 

"No.     It's  too  long  a  story  to  tell  you  now; 

here  we  are  at  the  Maison  Blanche.     Just 

remember  my  words,  please.     It's  something 

that  I  can't  go  into  now." 

*  "Very  well.     Henry!    Do  you  think  that 


THE  ULTIMATUM  231 

it's  possible  your  chauffeur,  Hammond,  could 
have  learned  about  the  drinking  party,  and 
could  have " 

Gramont  started.  "Hammond?  No.  I'll 
answer  for  him  beyond  any  question,  Lucie. 
By  the  way,  does  Fell  know  anything  about 
Hammond  having  been  the  first  Masquer?" 

"Not  from  me,"  said  the  girl,  watching  him. 

"Very  well.  Hammond  got  into  a  bit  of 
trouble  at  Houma,  and  I  had  to  leave  him 
there.  It  was  none  of  his  fault,  and  he'll 
get  out  of  it  all  right.  Well,  come  along  up 
to  our  oil  meeting!  Forget  your  troubles, 
and  don't  let  my  croakings  about  a  new 
shock  cause  you  any  worry  just  yet." 

He  was  thinking  of  Jachin  Fell,  and  the 
girl's  closeness  to  Fell.  Had  he  not  known 
that  Fell  was  responsible  for  Hammond's  be- 
ing in  jail,  he  might  have  felt  differently.  As 
it  was,  he  was  now  fore- warned  and  fore- 
armed, although  he  could  not  see  what 
animus  Fell  could  possibly  have  against  Ham- 
mond. 

It  was  lucky,  he  reflected  grimly,  that  he 
had  never  breathed  to  a  soul  except  Lucie 
the  fact  that  Hammond  had  been  the  first 
Masquer!  Had  Fell  known  this  fact,  his 


232   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

desire  to  lay  Hammond  by  the  heels  might 
have  been  easily  fulfilled — and  Hammond 
would  probably  have  found  himself  charged 
with  Maillard's  murder. 

They  found  Jachin  Fell  dictating  to  a 
stenographer.  He  greeted  them  warmly,  ush- 
ering them  at  once  into  his  private  office. 

Gramont  found  it  difficult  to  convince 
himself  that  his  experiences  of  the  previous 
afternoon  had  been  real.  It  was  almost 
impossible  to  believe  that  this  shy,  apologetic 
little  man  in  gray  was  in  reality  the  "man 
higher  up!"  Yet  he  knew  it  to  be  the  case — 
knew  it  beyond  any  escape. 

"By  the  way,"  and  Fell  turned  to  Gra- 
mont, "if  you'll  dictate  a  brief  statement 
concerning  that  oil  seepage,  I'd  be  obliged! 
Merely  give  the  facts.  I  may  have  need  of 
such  a  statement  from  you." 

Gramont  nodded  and  joined  the  stenog- 
rapher in  the  outer  office  where  he  dictated 
a  brief  statement.  It  did  not  occur  to  him 
that  there  might  be  danger  in  this;  at  the 
moment,  he  was  rather  off  his  guard.  He 
was  thinking  so  much  about  his  future  assault 
on  Fell  that  he  quite  ignored  the  possibility 
of  being  placed  on  the  defensive. 


THE  ULTIMATUM  233 

Within  five  minutes  he  had  returned  to 
Lucie  and  Jachin  Fell,  who  were  discussing 
the  condition  of  Mrs.  Maillard.  Gramont 
signed  the  statement  and  handed  it  to  Fell, 
who  laid  it  with  other  papers  at  his  elbow. 

"I  suppose  we  may  proceed  to  business?" 
began  Fell.  "I  have  drawn  up  articles  of 
partnership;  we  can  apply  for  incorporation 
later  if  we  so  desire.  Lucie,  both  Henry 
Gramont  and  I  are  putting  twenty-five  thou- 
sand dollars  into  this  company,  while  you  are 
putting  in  your  land,  which  I  am  valuing  at  an 
equal  amount.  The  stock,  therefore,  will  be 
divided  equally  among  us.  That  is  under- 
stood?" 

"Yes.  It's  very  good  of  you,  Uncle 
Jachin,"  said  the  girl,  quietly.  "I'll  leave 
everything  to  your  judgment." 

The  little  gray  man  smiled. 

"Judgment  is  a  poor  horse  to  ride,  as 
Eliza  said  when  she  crossed  the  ice.  Here's 
everything  in  black  and  white.  I  suggest 
that  you  both  glance  over  the  articles,  sign 
up,  and  we  will  then  hold  our  first  meeting." 

Gramont  and  Lucie  read  over  the  partner- 
ship agreement,  and  found  it  perfectly  correct. 

"Very  well,  then,  the  meeting  is  called  to 


234   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

order!"  Jachin  Fell  smiled  as  he  rapped  on 
the  desk  before  him.  "Election  of  officers — 
no,  wait!  The  first  thing  on  hand  is  to  give 
our  company  a  name.  Suggestions?" 

"I  was  thinking  of  that  last  night,"  said 
Lucie,  smiling  a  little.  "Why  not  call  it 
the  *  American  Prince  Oil  Company'?"  And 
her  eyes  darted  to  Gramont  merrily. 

"Excellent!"  exclaimed  Jachin  Fell.  "My 
vote  falls  with  yours,  my  dear — I'll  fill  in  the 
blanks  with  that  name.  Now  to  the  election 
of  officers." 

"I  nominate  Jachin  Fell  for  president," 
said  Gramont,  quickly. 

"Seconded!"  exclaimed  the  girl,  gaily,  a 
little  colour  in  her  pale  cheeks. 

"Any  other  nominations?  If  not,  so  ap- 
proved and  ordered,"  rattled  Fell,  laugh- 
ingly. "For  the  office  of  treasurer " 

"Miss  Lucie  Ledanois!"  said  Gramont. 
"Move  nominations  be  closed." 

"Seconded  and  carried  by  a  two-thirds 
vote  of  stockholders,"  chirped  Fell  in  his 
toneless  voice.  "So  approved  and  ordered. 
For  secretary " 

"Our  third  stockholder,"  put  in  Lucie. 
"He'll  have  to  be  an  officer,  of  course!" 


THE  ULTIMATUM  235 

"Seconded  and  carried.  So  approved  and 
ordered."  Mr.  Fell  rapped  on  the  table. 
"We  will  now  have  the  report  of  our  expert 
geologist  in  further  detail  than  yet  given." 

Gramont  told  of  finding  the  oil;  he  was  not 
carried  away  by  the  gay  mock-solemnity  of 
Jachin  Fell,  and  he  remained  grave.  He 
went  on  to  relate  how  he  had  secured  the 
lease  option  upon  the  adjoining  land,  and 
suggested  that  other  such  options  be  secured 
at  once  upon  other  property  in  the  neighbour- 
hood. He  handed  the  option  to  Fell,  who  laid 
it  with  the  other  documents. 

"And  now  I  have  a  proposal  of  my  own 
to  make,"  said  Jachin  Fell.  He  appeared 
sobered,  as  though  influenced  by  Gramont's 
manner.  "Although  we've  actually  found 
oil  on  the  place,  there  is  no  means  of  telling 
how  much  we'll  find  when  we  drill,  or  what 
quality  it  will  be.  Is  that  not  correct,  Mr. 
Gramont?" 

"Entirely  so,"  assented  Gramont.  "The 
chances  are,  of  course,  that  we'll  find  oil  in 
both  quality  and  quantity.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  seepage  may  be  all  there  is.  Oil  is  a 
gamble  from  start  to  finish.  Personally,  how- 
ever, I  would  gamble  heavily  on  this  prospect." 


236   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

"Naturally,"  said  Mr.  Fell.  "However, 
I  have  been  talking  over  the  oil  business  with 
a  number  of  men  actively  engaged  in  it  in  the 
Houma  field.  I  think  that  I  may  safely  say 
that  I  can  dispose  of  the  mineral  rights  to 
our  company's  land,  together  with  this  lease 
option  secured  yesterday  on  the  adjoining 
land,  for  a  sum  approximating  one  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  dollars;  reserving  to  our 
company  a  sixteenth  interest  in  any  oil 
located  on  the  property.  Personally,  I  be- 
lieve this  can  be  done,  and  I  am  willing  to 
undertake  the  negotiations  if  so  empowered 
by  a  note  of  our  stockholders.  Lucie,  you  do 
not  mind  if  we  smoke,  I  know?  Let  me 
offer  you  a  cigar,  Mr.  Gramont." 

Gramont  took  one  of  the  El  Reys  offered 
him,  and  lighted  it  amid  a  startled  silence. 
Fell's  proposal  came  to  him  as  a  distinct 
shock,  and  already  he  was  viewing  it  in  the 
light  of  prompt  suspicion. 

"Why,"  exclaimed  Lucie,  wide-eyed,  "that 
would  be  fifty  thousand  dollars  to  each  of 
us,  and  not  a  cent  expended!" 

"In  case  it  went  through  on  that  basis," 
added  Jachin  Fell,  his  eyes  on  Gramont, 
"I  would  vote  that  the  entire  sum  go  to  Miss 


THE  ULTIMATUM  237 

Ledanois.  Her  land  alone  is  involved.  If 
she  then  wishes  to  invest  with  us  in  a  new 
company  to  exploit  other  fields,  well  and 
good.  One  moment,  my  dear!  Do  not  pro- 
test this  suggestion.  The  sixteenth  interest 
reserved  to  our  company  would  provide  both 
Mr.  Gramont  and  me  with  a  substantial  re- 
ward for  our  slight  activity  in  the  matter. 
Don't  forget  that  interest,  for  it  might  amount 
to  a  large  figure." 

"Right,"  assented  Gramont.  "I  would 
second  your  vote,  Mr.  Fell;  I  think  the  idea 
very  just  and  proper  that  Miss  Ledanois 
should  receive  the  entire  amount." 

Lucie  seemed  a  trifle  bewildered. 

"  But— but ,  Henry ! "  she  exclaimed.  "  What 
do  you  think  of  selling  the  lease  to  these  other 
men?" 

Gramont  eyed  the  smoke  from  his  cigar 
reflectively,  quite  conscious  that  Mr.  Fell 
was  regarding  him  very  steadily. 

"I  can't  answer  for  you,  Lucie,"  he  said  at 
last.  "I  would  not  presume  to  advise." 

Mr.  Fell  looked  slightly  relieved.  Lucie, 
however,  persisted. 

"What  would  you  do,  then,  if  you  were  in 
my  place?" 


238   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

Gramont  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"In  that  case,"  he  said,  slowly,  "I  would 
gamble.  We  know  oil  is  in  that  ground;  we 
know  that  it  has  been  found  in  large  quan- 
tities at  Houma  or  near  there.  To  my 
mind  there  is  no  doubt  whatever  that  under 
your  land  lies  a  part  of  the  same  oil  field — and 
a  rich  one.  To  sell  fifteen-sixteenths  of  that 
oil  for  a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  is  to 
give  it  away.  I  would  sooner  take  my 
chances  on  striking  a  twenty-thousand  barrel 
gusher  and  having  the  whole  of  it  to  myself. 
However,  by  all  means  disregard  my  words; 
this  is  not  my  affair." 

Lucie  glanced  at  Jachin  Fell. 

"You  think  it  is  the  best  thing  to  do;  Henry 
does  not,"  mused  the  girl.  "I  know  that 
you're  both  thinking  of  me — of  getting  that 
money  for  me.  Just  the  same,  Uncle  Jachin, 
I — I  won't  be  prudent!  I'll  gamble!  Be- 
sides," she  added  with  smiling  naivete,  "I'm 
not  a  bit  willing  to  give  up  having  a  real  oil 
company  the  very  minute  it  is  formed!  So 
we'll  outvote  you,  Uncle  Jachin." 

Despite  their  tension,  the  two  men  smiled 
at  her  final  words. 

"That  motion  of  mine  has  not  yet  been 


THE  ULTIMATUM  239 

made,"  said  Fell.  Her  rejection  of  his  pro- 
posal had  no  effect  upon  his  shyly  smooth 
manner.  "Will  you  excuse  us  one  moment, 
Lucie?  If  I  may  speak  with  you  in  the 
outer  office,  Mr.  Gramont,  I  would  like  to 
show  you  some  confidential  matters  which 
might  influence  your  decision  in  this  regard." 

Lucie  nodded  and  leaned  back  in  her  chair. 

Gramont  accompanied  Fell  to  the  outer 
office,  where  Fell  sent  the  stenographer  to 
keep  Lucie  company.  When  the  door  had 
closed  and  they  were  alone,  Fell  took  a  chair 
and  motioned  Gramont  to  another.  A  cold 
brusquerie  was  evident  in  his  manner. 

"Gramont,"  he  said,  briskly,  "I  am  going 
to  make  that  motion,  and  I  want  you  to  vote 
with  me  against  Lucie.  Unfortunately,  I 
have  only  a  third  of  the  voting  power.  I 
might  argue  Lucie  into  agreement,  but  she  is 
a  difficult  person  to  argue  with.  So  I  mean 
that  you  shall  vote  with  me — and  I'm  going 
to  put  my  cards  on  the  table  before  you." 

"Ah!"  Gramont  regarded  him  coolly. 
"Your  cards  will  have  to  be  powerful  per- 
suaders!" 

"They  are,"  returned  Jachin  Fell.  "I 
have  been  carefully  leading  up  to  this  point — 


240   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

the  point  of  selling.  I  have  practically  ar- 
ranged the  whole  affair.  I  propose  to  sell 
the  mineral  rights  in  that  land,  largely  on  the 
strength  of  the  signed  statement  you  gave  me 
a  few  moments  ago.  That  statement  is 
going  to  be  given  wide  publicity,  and  it  will 
be  substantiated  by  other  reports  on  the  oil 
seepage." 

"You  interest  me  strangely."  Gramont 
leaned  back  in  his  chair.  The  eyes  of  the  two 
men  met  and  held  in  cold  challenge,  cold 
hostility.  "What's  your  motive,  Fell?" 

"I'll  tell  you:  it's  the  interest  of  Lucie 
Ledanois."  In  the  gaze  of  Fell  was  a  strange 
earnestness.  In  those  pale  gray  eyes  was 
now  a  light  of  fierce  sincerity  which  startled 
and  warned  Gramont.  Fell  continued  with 
a  trace  of  excitement  in  his  tone. 

"I've  known  that  girl  all  her  life,  Gramont, 
and  I  love  her  as  a  father.  I  loved  her 
mother  before  her — in  a  different  way.  I 
can  tell  you  that  at  this  moment  Lucie  is 
poor.  Her  house  is  mortgaged;  she  does  not 
know,  in  fact,  just  how  poor  she  really  is. 
Of  course,  she  will  accept  no  money  from  me 
in  gift.  But  for  her  to  get  a  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  in  a  business  deal  will  solve 


THE  ULTIMATUM  241 

all   her   problems,   set   her   on   her   feet   for 
life!" 

"I  see,"  said  Gramont  with  harsh  impulse. 
"What  do  you  get  out  of  it?" 

He  regretted  the  words  instantly.  Fell 
half  rose  from  his  chair  as  though  to  answer 
them  with  a  blow.  Gramont,  aware  of  his 
mistake,  hastened  to  retract  it. 

"Forgive  me,  Fell,"  he  said,  quickly.  "That 
was  an  unjust  insinuation,  and  I  know  it. 
Yet,  I  can't  find  myself  in  agreement  with  you. 
.I'm  firmly  set  in  the  belief  that  a  fortune  in 
oil  will  be  made  off  that  land  of  Lucie's.  I 
simply  can't  agree  to  sell  out  for  a  compara- 
tive pittance,  and  I'll  fight  to  persuade  her 
against  doing  it!  As  I  look  at  it,  the  thing 
would  not  be  just  to  her.  I'm  thinking, 
as  you  are,  only  of  her  interest." 

A  light  of  sardonic  mockery  glittered  in  the 
pale  eyes  of  Jachin  Fell. 

"You  are  basing  your  firm  conviction," 
he  queried,  "very  largely  upon  your  discovery 
of  the  free  oil?" 

"To  a  large  extent,  yes." 

"I  thought  you  would,"  and  Fell  laughed 
harshly. 

"What  do  you  mean?" 


242   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

"I  mean,"  said  the  other,  fiercely  earnest, 
"that  for  a  month  I've  worked  to  sell  that 
land!  I  had  young  Maillard  hooked  and 
landed — it  would  have  been  poetic  justice  to 
make  him  hand  over  a  small  fortune  to  Lucie ! 
But  that  deal  is  off,  since  he's  in  jail.  And  do 
you  know  why  young  Maillard  wanted  to  buy 
the  land?  For  the  same  reason  you  don't 
want  to  sell.  I  sent  him  out  there  and  he 
saw  that  oil  seepage,  as  I  meant  that  he 
should!  He  thought  he  would  skin  Lucie 
out  of  her  land,  not  dreaming  that  I  had 
prepared  a  nice  little  trap  to  swallow  him. 
And  now  you  come  along " 

"Man,  what  are  you  driving  at?"  ex- 
claimed Gramont.  He  was  startled  by  what 
he  read  in  the  other  man's  face. 

"Merely  that  I  planted  that  oil  seepage 
myself — or  had  it  done  by  men  I  could 
trust,"  said  Jachin  Fell,  calmly.  He  sat  back 
in  his  chair  and  took  up  his  cigar  with  an  air 
of  finality.  "The  confession  is  shameless. 
I  love  Lucie  more  than  my  own  ethical 
purity.  Besides,  I  intend  to  wrong  no  one  in 
the  matter." 

Gramont  sat  stunned  beyond  words.  The 
oil  seepage — a  plant! 


THE  ULTIMATUM  243 

The  thing  could  have  been  very  easily 
done,  of  course.  As  he  sat  silent  there  un- 
folded before  him  the  motives  that  underlay 
Fell's  entire  action.  The  amazing  disclosure 
of  Jachin  Fell's  intrigue  to  enrich  the  girl 
left  him  bewildered.  This,  coupled  with 
what  he  had  learned  on  the  preceding  day 
about  Jachin  Fell,  put  his  own  course  of  action 
into  grave  perplexity. 

There  was  no  reason  to  doubt  what  Fell 
said.  Gramont  believed  the  little  man  sin- 
cere in  his  love  for  Lucie. 

"No  matter  what  the  outcome,  your  reputa- 
tion will  not  be  affected,"  said  Fell,  quietly. 
"The  company  which  will  buy  this  land  of 
Lucie's  is  controlled  by  me.  You  understand? 
Even  if  no  oil  is  ever  found  there,  I  shall  see 
to  it  that  you  will  not  be  injured  because  of 
that  signed  statement." 

Gramont  nodded  dull  comprehension.  He 
realized  that  Fell  had  devised  this  whole 
business  scheme  with  infernal  ingenuity;  had 
devised  it  in  order  to  take  a  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  dollars  out  of  his  own  pocket 
and  put  it  into  that  of  Lucie.  It  was  a 
present  which  the  girl  would  never  accept  as 
a  gift,  but  which,  if  it  came  in  the  way  of 


244   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

business,  would  make  her  financially  in- 
dependent. Nobody  would  be  defrauded. 
There  was  no  chicanery  about  it.  The  thing 
was  straight  enough. 

"That's  not  quite  all  of  my  plan,"  pursued 
Fell,  as  though  reading  Gramont's  unuttered 
thoughts.  "The  minute  this  news  becomes 
public,  the  minute  your  statement  is  pub- 
lished, there  will  be  a  tremendous  boom  in 
that  whole  section.  I  shall  take  charge  of 
Lucie's  money,  and  within  three  weeks  I 
should  double  it,  treble  it,  for  her.  Before  the 
boom  bursts  she  will  be  out  of  it  all,  and 
wealthy.  Now,  my  dear  Gramont,  I  do  not 
presume  that  you  will  still  refuse  to  vote 
with  me?  I  have  been  quite  frank,  you  see." 

Gramont  stirred  in  his  chair. 

"Yes!"  he  said,  low-voiced.  "Yes,  by 
heavens,  I  do  refuse!" 

With  an  effort  he  checked  hotly  impulsive 
words  that  were  on  his  tongue.  One  word 
now  might  ruin  him.  He  dared  not  say  that 
he  did  not  want  to  see  Fell's  money  pass  into 
the  hands  of  Lucie — money  gained  by  fraud 
and  theft  and  crime!  He  dared  not  give  his 
reasons  for  refusing.  He  meant  now  to 
crush  Fell  utterly — but  one  wrong  word 


THE  ULTIMATUM  245 

would  give  the  man  full  warning.  He  must 
say  nothing. 

"It's  not  straight  work,  Fell.  Regardless 
of  your  motives,  I  refuse  to  join  you." 

Jachin  Fell  sighed  slightly,  and  laid  down 
his  cigar  with  precision. 

"Gramont,"  his  voice  came  with  the  softly 
purring  menace  of  a  tiger's  throat-tone, 
"I  shall  now  adjourn  this  company  meeting 
for  two  days,  until  Saturday  morning,  in 
order  to  give  you  a  little  time  to  reconsider. 
To-day  is  Thursday.  By  Saturday " 

"I  need  no  time,"  said  Gramont. 

"But  you  will  need  it.  I  suppose  you 
know  that  Bob  Maillard  has  been  arrested  for 
parricide?  You  are  aware  of  the  evidence 
against  him — all  circumstantial?" 

Gramont  frowned.  "What  has  that  got  to 
do  with  our  present  business?" 

"Quite  a  bit,  I  fancy."  A  thin  smile 
'curved  the  lips  of  Jachin  Fell.  "Maillard  is 
not  guilty  of  the  murder — but  you  are." 

"Liar!"  Gramont  started  from  his  chair  as 
those  three  words  burned  into  him.  "Liar! 
Why,  you  know  that  I  went  home 

"  Ah,  wait ! "  Fell  lifted  his  hand  for  peace. 
His  voice  was  calm.  "Ansley  and  I  both 


246   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

saw  you  depart,  certainly.  We  have  since 
learned  that  you  did  not  reach  home  until 
some  time  after  midnight.  You  have  posi- 
tively no  alibi,  Gramont.  You  may  allege, 
of  course,  that  you  were  wandering  the 
streets " 

"As  I  was!"  cried  Gramont,  heatedly. 

"Then  prove  it,  my  dear  fellow;  prove  it — 
if  you  can.  Now,  we  shall  keep  Lucie  out  of 
all  this.  What  remains?  I  know  that  you 
were  the  Midnight  Masquer.  My  man,  Ben 
Chacherre,  can  prove  by  another  man  who 
accompanied  him  that  the  Masquer's  loot  was 
taken  from  your  car.  A  dictograph  in  the 
private  office,  yonder,  has  a  record  of  the  talk 
between  us  of  the  other  morning,  in  which 
you  made  patent  confession  to  being  the 
Masquer. 

"Once  let  me  hand  this  array  of  evidence 
over  to  the  district  attorney,  and  you  will 
most  certainly  stand  trial.  And,  if  you  do 
stand  trial,  I  can  promise  you  faithfully  that 
you  will  meet  conviction.  I  have  friends, 
you  see,  and  many  of  them  are  influential  in 
such  small  matters." 

It  was  not  a  nice  smile  that  curved  the  lips 
of  Fell. 


THE  ULTIMATUM  247 

Gramont  choked  back  any  response,  hold- 
ing himself  to  silence  with  a  firm  will.  He 
dared  say  nothing,  lest  he  say  too  much.  He 
saw  that  Fell  could  indeed  make  trouble  for 
him — and  that  he  must  strike  his  own  blow 
at  Fell  without  great  delay.  It  was  a  battle, 
now;  a  fight  to  the  end. 

Fell  regarded  Gramont  cheerfully,  seeming 
to  take  this  crushed  silence  as  evidence  of  his 
own  triumph. 

"Further,"  he  added,  "your  man  Ham- 
mond is  now  in  jail  at  Houma,  as  you  know, 
for  the  murder  of  the  sheriff.  Now,  my 
influence  is  not  confined  to  this  city,  Gramont, 
I  may  be  able  to  clear  Hammond  of  this 
charge — if  you  decide  to  vote  with  me.  I 
may  keep  what  I  know  about  the  Midnight 
Masquer  from  the  press  and  from  the  district 
attorney — if  you  decide  to  vote  with  me. 
You  comprehend?" 

Gramont  nodded.  He  saw  now  why  Fell 
wanted  to  "get  something"  on  Hammond. 
Fell  had  rightly  reasoned  that  Gramont 
would  do  more  to  save  Hammond  than  to 
save  himself. 

"You  think  I  murdered  Maillard,  then?" 
he  asked. 


248   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

"Gramont,  I  don't  know  what  to  think, 
and  that's  the  honest  truth!"  answered  Fell, 
with  a  steady  regard.  "But  I  am  absolutely 
determined  to  put  this  oil  deal  across,  to 
make  Lucie  Ledanois  at  least  independent,  if 
not  wealthy.  I  can  do  it,  I've  made  all  my 
plans  to  do  it,  and — I  will  do  it! 

"We'll  hold  another  meeting  day  after  to- 
morrow— Saturday  morning."  Fell  rose. 
"That  will  give  me  time  to  conclude  all 
arrangements.  I  trust,  Mr.  Gramont,  that 
you  will  vote  with  me  for  the  adjournment?" 

"Yes,"  said  Gramont,  dully.     "I  will." 

"Thank  you,"  and  Jachin  Fell  bowed 
slightly,  not  without  a  trace  of  mockery  in  his 
air. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

The  Coin  Falls  Heads 

GRAMONT  sat  in  his  own  room  that 
afternoon.     It  seemed  to  him  that  he 
had  been  away  from  the  city  for  weeks 
and  months.     Yet  only  a  day  had  intervened. 
He  sat  fingering  the  only  piece  of  mail  that 
had  come  to  him — a  notice  from  the  post  of  the 
American  Legion  which  he  had  joined,  to  the 
effect  that  there  would  be  a  meeting  that 
Thursday    evening.     Only    Thursday!     And 
to-morrow  was  Friday. 

If  he  was  to  effect  anything  against  the 
headquarters  of  Fell's  gang  he  must  act  on 
the  morrow  or  not  at  all.  Gumberts  was  to 
be  out  there  to-morrow.  Gumberts  would 
talk  with  the  ratty  little  man  of  the  project- 
ing teeth  and  adenoids,  would  find  Gramont 
had  imposed  upon  the  fellow,  and  there  would 
be  upheavals.  The  gang  would  take  to 
flight,  certainly,  or  at  least  make  certain  that 
Gramont's  mouth  was  shut. 


250   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

He  sat  fingering  the  postal  from  the  Legion, 
and  turning  over  events  in  his  mind.  Against 
Fell  he  had  particular  animosity.  All  that 
the  little  gray  man  had  done  had  been  done 
with  the  thought  of  Lucie  Ledanois  as  a 
spur. 

"Yet  he  can't  realize  that  Lucie  wouldn't 
have  the  money  if  she  knew  that  it  came  from 
criminal  sources,"  he  thought,  smiling  bit- 
terly. "He's  been  scheming  a  long  time 
to  make  a  fortune  for  her,  and  now  he's 
determined  to  push  it  through  regardless  of 
me.  It  was  clever  of  him  to  jail  Hammond.1 
He  guessed  that  I'd  do  a  great  deal  to  save 
the  redhead — more  even  than  to  save  my- 
self. Mighty  clever!  And  now  he's  pretty 
sure  that  he's  got  me  between  a  cleft  stick, 
where  I  can't  wriggle. 

"If  I'm  to  strike  a  blow,  I'll  have  to  do  it 
to-morrow — before  noon  to-morrow,  also.  I'll 
have  to  leave  here  mighty  early,  and  get 
there  before  Gumberts  does.  What  was  it 
Hammond  said  that  day  about  him — that 
nobody  in  the  country  had  ever  caught 
Memphis  Izzy?  I  bet  I  could  do  it,  and  his 
whole  gang  with  him — if  I  knew  how.  There's 
the  rub!  Fell  won't  hesitate  a  minute  in 


THE  COIN  FALLS  HEADS       251 

having  me  arrested.  And  as  he  said,  once 
he  got  me  arrested,  I'd  be  gone.  He  must 
be  able  to  exert  powerful  influence,  that 
man!" 

Should  he  strike  or  not?  If  he  struck,  he 
might  expect  the  full  weight  of  Jachin  Fell's 
vengeance — unless  his  blow  would  include 
Fell  among  the  victims. 

Gramont  was  still  pondering  this  dilemma 
when  Ben  Chacherre  arrived. 

Gramont  heard  the  man's  voice  on  the 
stairs.  Ben's  impudence,  perhaps  added  to 
his  name  and  the  Creole  French  upon  his 
lips,  had  carried  him  past  the  concierge 
unannounced,  although  not  without  a  con- 
tinued exchange  of  repartee  that  served  to 
give  Gramont  warning  of  the  visitor.  Smil- 
ing grimly,  Gramont  drew  a  coin  from  his 
pocket,  and  flipped  it. 

The  coin  fell  heads.  He  pocketed  it  again 
as  Ben  Chacherre  knocked,  and  opened  the 
door. 

"Ah,  Chacherre!"  he  exclaimed.  "Come 
in." 

Ben  swaggered  inside  and  closed  the  door. 

"Brought  a  message  for  you,  Mr.  Gra- 
mont," he  said,  jauntily,  and  extended  a  note. 


THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

Gramont  tore  open  the  envelope  and  read  a 
curt  communication: 


Kindly  let  me  know  your  answer  as  soon  as  possible. 
By  to-morrow  evening  at  the  latest.  It  will  be  neces- 
sary to  arrange  affairs  for  Saturday. 

JACHIN  FELL. 

To  arrange  affairs!  Fell  was  taking  for 
granted  that  Gramont  would  give  an  assent, 
under  force  of  persuasion,  to  the  scheme. 
He  would  probably  have  everything  in  readi- 
ness, and  if  assured  by  Friday  night  of 
Gramont's  assent,  would  then  pull  his  strings 
and  perhaps  complete  the  whole  deal  before 
the  following  Monday. 

The  meeting  of  the  company  had  been 
adjourned  to  Saturday  morning.  Gramont 
thought  a  moment,  then  went  to  his  buhl 
escritoire  and  opened  it.  Chacherre  had 
already  taken  a  seat.  Gramont  wrote: 

MY  DEAR  MR.  FELL, 

If  you  will  arrange  the  company  meeting  for  to- 
morrow evening,  say  nine  o'clock,  at  your  office,  I  think 
that  everything  may  then  be  arranged.  As  I  may  not 
see  Miss  Ledanois  in  the  meantime,  will  you  be  kind 
enough  to  assure  her  presence  at  the  meeting? 


THE  COIN  FALLS  HEADS       253 

He  addressed  an  envelope  to  Fell's  office, 
and  then  stamped  and  pocketed  it. 

"Well,  Chacherre,"  he  said,  rising  and 
returning  to  the  Creole,  "any  further  news 
from  Houma?  They  haven't  found  the  real 
murderer  yet?" 

The  other  came  to  his  feet  with  an  exclama- 
tion of  surprise.  As  he  did  so,  Gramont's  fist 
caught  him  squarely  on  the  point  of  the  jaw. 

Chacherre  crumpled  back  across  his  chair, 
senseless  for  the  moment. 

"I'm  afraid  to  take  any  chances  with  you, 
my  fine  bird,"  said  Gramont,  rubbing  his 
knuckles.  "You're  too  clever  by  far,  and  too 
handy  with  your  weapons!" 

He  obtained  cloths,  and  firmly  bound  the 
ankles  and  wrists  of  Chacherre.  Not  con- 
tent with  this,  he  placed  the  man  in  the 
chair  and  tied  him  to  it  with  merciless  knots. 
As  he  was  finishing  his  task,  Chacherre 
opened  his  eyes  and  gazed  rapidly  around. 

"Awake  at  last,  are  you?"  said  Gramont, 
genially.  He  got  his  pipe,  filled  and  lighted 
it.  The  eyes  of  Chacherre  were  now  fastened 
upon  him  venomously.  "Too  bad  for  you, 
Chacherre,  that  the  coin  fell  heads  up!  That 
spelled  action." 


254   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

"Are  you  crazy?"  muttered  the  other  in 
French.  Gramont  laughed,  and  responded 
in  the  same  tongue. 

"It  does  look  that  way,  doesn't  it?  You're 
slippery,  but  now  you're  caught." 

Chacherre  must  have  realized  that  he  stood 
in  danger.  He  checked  a  curse,  and  regarded 
Gramont  with  a  steady  coolness. 

"Be  careful!"  he  said,  his  voice  deadly. 
"What  do  you  mean  by  this?" 

Gramont  looked  at  him  and  puffed  his 
pipe. 

"The  game's  up,  Ben,"  he  observed.  "I 
know  all  about  the  place  down  there — about 
the  cars,  and  about  the  lottery.  Your  gang 
has  had  a  pleasant  time,  eh?  But  now  you 
and  the  others  are  going  to  do  a  little  work 
for  the  state  on  the  road  gangs." 

"Bah!  Ca  va  rive  dans  semaine  quatte 
zheudis  /"  spat  Chacherre,  contemptuously. 
"That  will  happen  in  the  week  of  four  Thurs- 
days, you  fool!  So  you  know  about  things, 
eh?  My  master  will  soon  shut  your  mouth!" 

"He  can't,"  said  Gramont,  placidly. 
"You'll  all  be  under  arrest." 

Chacherre  laughed  scornfully,  then  spoke 
with  that  deadly  gravity. 


THE  COIN  FALLS  HEADS       255 

"Look  here — you're  a  stranger  here?  Well, 
since  you  know  so  much,  I'll  tell  you  more! 
We  can't  be  arrested,  and  even  if  you  get 
us  pinched,  we'll  never  be  convicted.  Do 
you  understand?  We  have  influence!  There 
are  men  here  in  New  Orleans,  men  in  the 
legislature,  men  at  Washington,  who  will 
never  see  us  molested!" 

"They'll  be  surprised,"  said  Gramont,  al- 
though he  felt  that  the  man's  words  were 
true.  "But  not  all  of  them  are  your  friends, 
Ben.  I  don't  think  the  governor  of  the  state 
is  in  your  gang.  He's  a  pretty  straight  man, 
Ben." 

"He's  a  fool  like  you!  What  is  he?  A 
puppet!  He  can  do  nothing  except  pardon 
us  if  the  worst  happens.  You  can't  touch 
us." 

"Well,  maybe  not,"  agreed  Gramont,  tap- 
ping at  his  pipe.  "Maybe  not,  but  we'll 
see!  You  seem  mighty  sure  of  where  you 
stand,  Ben." 

Encouraged,  Ben  Chacherre  laughed  in- 
solently. 

"Let  me  loose,"  he  commanded.  "Or 
else  you'll  go  over  the  road  for  the  Midnight 
Masquer's  work!  My  master  has  a  dicto- 


256   THE  MARD1  GRAS  MYSTERY 

graph  in  his  office,  and  has  your  confession 
on  record." 

"So?"  queried  Gramont,  his  brows  lifted. 
"You  seem  much  in  Mr.  Fell's  confidence, 
Ben.  But  I  think  I'll  leave  you  tied  up  a 
little  while.  Memphis  Izzy  is  going  down  to 
his  summer  cottage  to-morrow,  isn't  he? 
I'll  be  there — but  you  won't.  By  the  way,  I 
think  I'd  better  look  through  your  pockets." 

Ben  Chacherre  writhed  suddenly,  hurling 
a  storm  of  curses  at  Gramont. 

The  latter,  unheeding  the  contortions  of 
his  captive,  searched  the  man  thoroughly. 
Except  for  a  roll  of  money,  the  pockets  gave 
up  little  of  interest.  The  only  paper  Gra- 
mont secured  was  a  fresh  telegraph  blank. 
He  would  have  passed  this  unheeded  had  he 
not  noted  a  snaky  flitting  of  Chacherre's  eyes 
toil. 

"Ah!"  he  said,  pleasantly.  "You  appear 
to  be  interested  in  this,  Ben.  Pray,  what  is 
the  secret?" 

Chacherre  merely  glared  at  him  in  silence. 
Gramont  inspected  the  blank,  and  a  sudden 
exclamation  broke  from  him.  He  held  the 
bit  of  yellow  paper  to  the  light  at  varying 
angles. 


THE  COIN  FALLS  HEADS       257 

"It's  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world," 
he  said  after  a  moment,  "for  a  man  to  walk 
into  a  telegraph  office,  write  out  his  telegram, 
and  then  find  that  he's  torn  two  blanks  in- 
stead of  one  from  the  pad  on  the  desk.  Eh? 
I've  done  it,  often — and  I've  always  put  the 
extra  blank  into  my  pocket,  Ben,  thinking  it 
might  come  in  handy;  just  as  you  did,  eh? 
Now  let's  see! 

"You  were  excited  when  you  wrote  this, 
weren't  you?  You'd  just  thought  of  some- 
thing very  important,  and  you  took  care  of  it 
hurriedly — that  made  you  jab  down  your 
pencil  pretty  hard.  Who's  Dick  Hearne  at 
Houma?  An  agent  of  the  gang  there?" 

Chacherre  merely  glared,  sullenly  defiant. 
Word  by  word,  Gramont  made  out  the  mes- 
sage: 

Burn  bundle  under  rear  seat  my  car.  Have  done  at 
once. 

Gramont  looked  up  and  smiled  thinly. 

"Your  car?  Why,  you  left  it  in  the  garage 
at  Gumberts'  place,  eh?  That  little  roadster 
of  Fell's,  with  the  extra  seat  behind.  If 
you'd  been  just  a  little  bit  cooler  yesterday, 
Ben,  you  would  have  made  fewer  mistakes. 


258   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

It  never  occurred  to  you  that  other  people 
might  have  been  there  in  the  bushes  when  the 
sheriff  was  murdered,  eh?'* 

Chacherre  went  livid. 

"It  was  another  mistake  to  throw  away 
your  knife  after  you  killed  him,"  pursued 
Gramont,  reflectively.  "  You  should  have  held 
on  to  that  knife,  Ben.  There's  no  blood, 
remember,  on  Hammond's  knife — a  hard 
thing  for  you  and  your  friends  to  explain 
plausibly.  Yet  your  knife  is  heavy  with 
blood,  which  tests  will  show  to  be  human 
blood.  Also,  the  knife  has  your  name  on  it; 
quite  a  handsome  knife,  too.  On  the  whole, 
you  must  admit  that  you  bungled  the  murder 
from  start  to  finish " 

Chacherre  broke  in  with  a  frightful  oath — 
a  frantically  obscene  storm  of  curses.  So 
furious  were  his  words  that  Gramont  very  effi- 
ciently gagged  him  with  cloths,  gagged  him 
hard  and  fast. 

"You  also  bungled  when  you  forgot  all 
about  burning  that  bundle,  in  your  excite- 
ment over  getting  Hammond  jailed  for  the 
murder,"  he  observed,  watching  Chacherre 
writhe.  "No,  you  can't  get  loose,  Ben. 
You'll  suffer  a  little  between  now  and  the 


THE  COIN  FALLS  HEADS       259 

time  of  your  release,  but  I  really  can't  spare 
much  pity  on  you. 

"I  think  that  I'll  send  another  wire  to 
Dick  Hearne  on  this  blank  which  you  so 
thoughtfully  provided.  I'll  order  him,  in 
your  name,  not  to  burn  that  bundle  after  all; 
I  fancy  it  may  prove  of  some  value  to  me. 
And  I'll  also  tell  your  friend — I  suppose  he 
has  some  familiar  cognomen,  such  as  Slippery 
Dick — to  meet  Henry  Gramont  at  Houma 
early  in  the  morning.  I'd  like  to  gather  Dick 
in  with  the  other  gentlemen.  I'll  mention 
that  you  were  kind  enough  to  supply  a  few 
names  and  incidents." 

At  this  last  Ben  Chacherre  writhed  anew, 
for  it  was  a  shrewd  blow.  He  and  his  friends 
belonged  to  that  class  of  crook  which  never 
"peaches."  If  by  any  mischance  one  of 
this  class  is  jailed  and  convicted,  he  in- 
variably takes  his  medicine  silently,  know- 
ing that  the  whole  gang  is  behind  him,  and 
that  when  he  emerges  from  prison  he  will  be 
sure  to  find  money  and  friends  and  occupation 
awaiting  him. 

To  know  that  he  would  be  placed,  in  the 
estimation  of  the  gang,  in  the  same  class  with 
stool-pigeons,  must  have  bitten  deeper  into 


260   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

Ben  Chacherre  than  any  other  lash.  He 
stared  at  Graniont  with  a  frightful  hatred  in 
his  blazing  eyes — a  hatred  which  gradually 
passed  into  a  look  of  helplessness  and  of  im- 
potent despair. 

Gramont,  meantime,  was  writing  out  the 
telegram  to  Dick  Hearne.  This  finished,  he 
got  his  hat  and  coat,  and  from  the  bureau 
drawer  took  an  automatic  pistol,  which  he 
pocketed.  Then  he  smiled  pleasantly  at  his 
prisoner. 

"I'll  be  back  a  little  later,  Ben,  and  I'll 
probably  bring  a  friend  with  me — a  friend 
who  will  sit  up  with  you  to-night  and  take 
care  of  your  health.  Kind  of  me,  eh?  It's 
getting  late  in  the  afternoon,  but  I  don't 
think  that  it  will  harm  you  to  go  with- 
out any  dinner.  I'll  'phone  Mr.  Fell  that 
you  said  you'd  be  away  for  a  few  hours,  eh? 

"This  evening,  Ben,  I  think  that  I'll 
attend  a  meeting  of  my  post  of  the  America'n 
Legion.  You  don't  belong  to  that  organiza- 
tion by  any  chance?  No,  I'm  quite  sure 
you  don't.  Very  few  of  your  exclusive  ac- 
quaintances do  belong.  Well,  see  you  later! 
Work  on  those  bonds  all  you  like — you're 
quite  safe.  I'm  curious  to  see  what  is  in 


THE  COIN  FALLS  HEADS       261 

that  bundle  under  the  rear  seat  of  your  car; 
I  have  an  idea  that  it  may  prove  interesting. 
Good  afternoon!" 

Gramont  closed  the  door,  and  left  the  house. 

Going  downtown,  he  mailed  the  letter  to 
Fell,  confident  that  the  latter  would  receive 
it  on  the  following  morning;  but  he  did  not 
telephone  Fell.  He  preferred  to  leave  the 
absence  of  Chacherre  unexplained,  rightly 
judging  that  Fell  would  not  be  particularly 
anxious  about  the  man.  It  was  now  Thurs- 
day evening.  The  meeting  of  the  oil  company 
would  be  held  at  nine  on  Friday  evening. 
Between  those  two  times  Gramont  figured  on 
many  things  happening. 

He  chuckled  as  he  sent  the  telegram  to 
Dick  Hearne  at  Houma — a  telegram  signed 
with  the  name  Chacherre,  instructing  Hearne 
not  to  burn  the  bundle,  but  to  meet  Gra- 
mont early  in  the  morning  at  Houma.  He 
had  a  very  shrewd  idea  that  this  Dick  Hearne 
might  prove  an  important  person  to  dispose 
of,  and  quite  useful  after  he  had  been  dis- 
posed of.  In  this  conjecture  he  was  right. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

Chacherre's  Bundle 

rWAS  seven  in  the  morning  when  Henry 
jramont  drove  his  car  into  Houma. 
In  the  wire  which  he  had  sent  over 
Chacherre's  signature  he  had  commanded 
Dick  Hearne  to  meet  Gramont  at  about 
this  time  at  a  restaurant  near  the  court  house. 
Putting  his  car  at  the  curb,  Gramont  went  into 
the  restaurant  and  ordered  a  hasty  break- 
fast. He  had  brought  with  him  copies  of 
the  morning  papers,  and  was  perusing  the 
accounts  of  Bob  Maillard's  pitifully  weak 
story  regarding  his  father's  murder,  when  a 
stranger  stopped  beside  him. 

"Gramont?"  said  the  other.  "Thought 
it  was  you.  Hearne's  my  name — I  had 
orders  to  meet  you.  What's  up?" 

The  other  man  dropped  into  the  chair 
opposite  Gramont,  who  put  away  his  papers. 
Hearne  was  a  sleek  individual  of  pasty 
complexion  who  evidently  served  the  gang 

262 


CHACHERRE'S  BUNDLE        263 

in  no  better  light  than  as  a  go-between  and 
runner  of  errands.  That  he  suspected  noth- 
ing was  plain  from  his  casual  manner,  al- 
though he  had  never  seen  Gramont  previously. 

"Business,"  said  Gramont,  leaning  back  to 
let  the  waitress  serve  his  breakfast.  When 
she  had  departed,  he  attacked  it  hungrily. 
"You  got  Chacherre's  wire  about  the  stuff  in 
his  car?  Was  it  burned?" 

"No.  He  countermanded  it  just  as  I  was 
hirin'  a  car  to  go  over  to  Paradis,"  said 
Hearne.  "What's  stirrin',  anyhow?" 

"Plenty.  Memphis  Izzy's  coming  down 
to-day.  When'll  he  get  in?  " 

"He'll  go  direct  to  the  other  place,  won't 
come  here.  Oh,  I  reckon  he'll  get  there 
along  about  nine  this  morning.  Why?" 

"We'll  have  to  go  over  there  to  meet  him," 
said  Gramont.  "I  stopped  in  here  to  pick 
you  up.  Hammond  is  still  safe  in  jail?" 

"Sure."  Hearne  laughed  evilly.  "I  don't 
guess  he'll  get  out  in  a  hurry,  neither!" 

"Chacherre  was  pinched  last  night  for 
the  murder,"  said  Gramont,  watching  the 
other. 

"The  hell!"  Hearne  looked  astonished, 
then  relaxed  and  laughed  again.  "Some  fly 


264   THE  MARD1  GRAS  MYSTERY 

cop  will  sure  lose  his  buttons,  then!  They 
ain't  got  nothin'  on  him." 

"I  heard  they  had  plenty." 

"Don't  worry."  Hearne  waved  a  hand 
grandiloquently.  "The  boss  is  solid  with  the 
bunch  up  to  Baton  Rouge,  and  they'll  take 
care  of  everybody.  So  old  Ben  got  pinched, 
huh?  That's  one  joke,  man!" 

Gramont's  worst  suspicions  were  confirmed 
by  the  attitude  of  Hearne,  who  plainly 
considered  that  the  entire  gang  had  nothing 
to  fear  from  the  law.  Chacherre's  boasts 
were  backed  up  solidly.  It  was  obvious  to 
Gramont  that  the  ramifications  of  the  gang 
extended  very  high  up  indeed. 

"Better  cut  out  the  talk,"  he  said,  curtly, 
"until  we  get  out  of  here." 

Hearne  nodded  and  rolled  a  cigarette. 

When  his  hasty  meal  was  finished  Gra- 
mont paid  at  the  counter  and  led  the  way 
outside.  He  motioned  toward  the  car,  and 
Hearne  obediently  climbed  in,  being  evi- 
dently of  so  little  account  in  the  gang  that 
he  was  accustomed  to  taking  orders  from 
everyone. 

Gramont  headed  out  of  town  and  took  the 
Paradis  road.  Before  he  had  driven  a  mile, 


CHACHERRE'S  BUNDLE        265 

however,  he  halted  the  car,  climbed  out,  and 
lifted  one  side  of  the  hood. 

"Give  me  those  rags  from  the  bottom  of 
the  car,  Hearne,"  he  said,  briefly. 

The  other  obeyed.  As  Gramont  made  no 
move  to  come  and  get  them,  Hearne  got  out 
of  the  car;  then  Gramont  rose  from  the 
engine  unexpectedly,  and  Hearne  looked  into 
a  pistol. 

"Hold  out  your  hands  behind  you  and  turn 
around!"  snapped  Gramont.  "No  talk!" 

Hearne  sputtered  an  oath,  but  as  the 
pistol  jerked  at  him  he  obeyed  the  command. 
Gramont  took  the  strips  of  cloth,  which  he 
had  previously  prepared,  and  bound  the 
man's  wrists. 

"These  are  better  than  handcuffs,"  he 
commented.  "Too  many  slick  individuals 
can  get  rid  of  bracelets — but  you'll  have  one 
man's  job  to  get  rid  of  these !  Ah !  a  gun  in 
your  pocket,  eh?  Thanks." 

"What  fell  you  doin'?"  exclaimed  the 
bewildered  Hearne. 

"Placing  you  under  arrest,"  said  Gramont, 
cheerfully. 

"Here,  where's  your  warrant?  You  ain't 
no  dick " 


266   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

Gramont  cut  short  his  protests  with  a  long 
cloth  which  effectually  bound  his  lower  jaw  in 
place  and  precluded  any  further  idea  of  talk. 

"You  climb  into  that  car,  Hearne,"  he 
ordered,  "and  I'll  attend  to  your  feet  next. 
That's  the  boy!  Nothing  like  taking  it 
calmly,  Hearne.  You  didn't  know  that  I 
was  the  fellow  who  pinched  old  Ben,  did  you? 
But  I  am.  And  before  night  your  whole 
crowd  will  be  hooked  up,  from  the  big  boss 
down  to  you." 

Gramont  tied  Dick  Hearne  securely,  hand 
and  foot,  and  then  lashed  him  to  one  of  the 
top  supports  of  the  car.  When  he  had 
finished,  Hearne  was  reasonably  safe.  He 
then  climbed  under  the  wheel  again  and 
proceeded  on  his  way.  Hearne's  lashings 
were  inconspicuous  to  any  one  whom  the  car 
passed. 

It  was  a  little  after  eight  in  the  morning 
when  Gramont  drove  into  Paradis.  He 
noticed  that  two  large  automobiles  were 
standing  in  front  of  the  postoffice,  and  that 
about  them  were  a  group  of  men  who  eyed 
him  and  his  car  with  some  interest.  Paying 
no  attention  to  these,  he  drove  on  through 
town  without  a  halt. 


CHACHERRE'S  BUNDLE        267 

Sweeping  out  along  the  north  road,  he 
encountered  no  one.  When  at  length  he 
reached  the  Ledanois  farm  he  drove  in 
toward  the  deserted  house  and  parked  the 
car  among  some  trees,  where  it  could  not  be 
seen  from  the  road. 

"You'll  have  some  pleasant  company  be- 
fore long,  Dicky,  my  lad,"  he  observed, 
cheerfully.  A  last  inspection  showed  that 
his  prisoner  was  quite  secure.  "In  the  mean- 
time, sit  and  meditate  upon  your  sins,  which 
I  trust  have  been  many  and  deep.  Cha- 
cherre  is  up  for  murder,  and  he's  trying  to 
save  his  neck  by  blowing  on  the  remainder  of 
your  gang.  We  may  give  you  a  chance  to 
do  the  same  thing  and  corroborate  his  tes- 
timony. It's  worth  thinking  over,  isn't  it? 

"Perhaps  you  imagine  that  you're  safe 
from  conviction.  If  so,  take  comfort  while 
you  can — I'll  chance  that  end  of  it!  When 
Memphis  Izzy  comes  along,  I'll  have  a  nice 
comfortable  little  conversation  with  him. 
Then  we'll  all  join  up  and  go  back  to  the 
city  together.  You  get  the  idea?  Well,  be 
good!" 

Leaving  the  car  Gramont  took  his  way 
toward  the  bank  of  the  bayou  and  followed  this 


268   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

in  the  direction  of  the  adjoining  property. 
He  looked  at  the  water,  a  bitter  smile  upon 
his  lips,  and  again  made  out  the  faint  irides- 
cent sheen  of  oil.  When  he  came  to  the 
rivulet  which  gave  birth  to  the  oil  he  paused. 
He  remembered  the  excitement  that  had  so 
shaken  him  upon  the  discovery  of  this  sup- 
posed seepage  two  days  previously — he  re- 
membered ironically  the  visions  it  had  aroused 
in  his  brain. 

"Farewell,  too  sudden  wealth!"  he  mur- 
mured. "Farewell,  toil's  end  and  dreams  of 
luxury!  I'm  still  a  poor  but  honest  working- 
man — but  I  still  think  that  there's  some  real 
oil  under  this  land.  Well,  we'll  see  about 
that  later  on,  perhaps.  Our  company  is  by 
no  means  busted  up  yet!" 

He  passed  on,  wondering  not  a  little  at  the 
deft  skill  of  Jachin  Fell  in  planting  that  oil; 
the  men  next  door  had  done  the  work,  of 
course.  Gramont  did  not  attempt  to  delude 
himself  with  the  idea  that  Fell  had  acted 
selfishly.  The  whole  affair  had  been  handled 
with  a  clever  secrecy,  only  in  order  that  Fell's 
oil  company  might  buy  the  land  from  Lucie, 
and  that  Fell  might  use  the  resultant  boom 
to  make  her  financially  secure. 


CHACHERRE'S  BUNDLE        269 

"He  doesn't  believe  there's  oil  here," 
reflected  Gramont,  "and  he's  sincere  in  the 
belief.  Where  Lucie  is  concerned,  I  think 
the  man's  absolutely  unselfish.  He'd  do 
anything  for  her!  And  yet  Jachin  Fell  is  an 
enemy,  a  deadly  enemy,  of  society!  Hm — 
these  criminals  show  some  queer  streaks.  You 
can't  call  a  man  like  Fell  wholly  bad,  not  by 
a  good  deal;  I'll  almost  regret  sending  him 
to  the  pen — if  I  do!" 

He  went  on  to  an  opening  in  the  bushes 
which,  over  the  low  rail  fence,  gave  him  a 
clear  view  of  the  Gumberts  property.  There 
he  paused,  quickly  drew  back,  and  gained  a 
point  whence  he  could  see  without  danger  of 
his  presence  being  discovered.  He  settled 
into  immobility  and  watched. 

That  Memphis  Izzy  himself  had  not  yet 
arrived,  he  was  fairly  certain.  Near  the 
barn  were  drawn  up  two  flivvers,  and  sitting 
in  chairs  on  the  cottage  veranda  were  three 
men  who  must  have  come  in  these  cars. 
Gramont  had  come  provided  with  binoculars, 
and  got  these  out.  He  was  not  long  in 
discovering  that  all  three  men  on  the  ver- 
anda were  strangers  to  him.  They,  no  doubt, 
were  men  in  the  lottery  game,  waiting  for 


THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

Gramont  rose.  A  moment  previously,  fever 
had  thrilled  him;  the  excitement  of  the  man- 
hunt had  held  him  trembling.  Now  he  was 
cool  again,  his  fingers  touching  the  pistol  in 
his  pocket,  his  eyes  steady.  He  glanced  at 
his  watch,  and  nodded. 

"It's  time!"  he  murmured.  "Let's  hope 
there'll  be  no  slip-up!  All  ready,  Memphis 
Izzy?  So  am  I.  Let's  go!" 

Unhurried  and  openly,  he  advanced,  making 
his  leisurely  way  toward  the  barn  and  shop. 
Charlie  the  Goog,  who  was  bent  over  the  car 
of  Gumberts,  was  first  to  discern  his  approach, 
and  straightened  up.  Gramont  waved  his 
hand  in  greeting.  Charlie  the  Goog  turned 
his  head  and  called  his  brethren,  who  came  into 
sight,  staring  at  Gramont. 

The  latter  realized  that  if  he  passed  them 
the  game  was  won.  If  they  stopped  him,  he 
bade  fair  to  lose  everything. 

"  Hello,  boys ! "  he  called,  cheerily,  as  he  drew 
near.  "I  came  out  on  an  errand  for  the  boss 
— got  a  message  for  Gumberts.  Where  is  he? 
In  the  house?" 

The  others  nodded,  plainly  mistrusting  him 
yet  puzzled  by  his  careless  manner  and  his 
reference  to  Fell. 


CHACHERRE'S  BUNDLE        273 

"Sure,"  answered  Charlie  the  Goog.  "Go 
right  in — he's  in  the  big  front  room." 

"Thanks." 

Gramont  continued  his  way,  conscious  that 
they  were  staring  after  him.  If  there  was  any- 
thing phony  about  him,  they  evidently  con- 
sidered that  Memphis  Izzy  would  take  care  of 
the  matter  very  ably. 

The  steps  of  the  cottage  porch  creaked  pro- 
test ingly  as  Gramont  ascended  them.  Per- 
haps Memphis  Izzy  recognized  an  unaccus- 
tomed footstep;  perhaps  that  conversation 
outside  had  penetrated  to  him.  Gramont 
entered  the  front  door  into  the  hall,  and  as 
he  did  so,  Gumberts  opened  the  door  on 
his  right  and  stood  gazing  at  him — rather, 
glaring. 

"Who 're  you?"  he  demanded,  roughly. 

"Came  out  with  a  message  from  Mr.  Fell," 
responded  Gramont  at  once.  "Brought  some 
orders,  I  should  say— 

The  sixth  sense  of  Memphis  Izzy,  which 
had  carried  him  uncaught  into  a  grizzled  age, 
must  have  flashed  a  warning  to  his  crook's 
brain.  In  the  man's  eyes  Gramont  read  a 
surge  of  suspicion,  and  knew  that  his  bluff 
could  be  worked  no  longer. 


276   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

It  was  Charlie  the  Goog,  bursting  in  upon 
them  in  wild  haste.  Gramont  stepped  into 
the  room  and  turned  slightly,  covering  with 
one  of  his  weapons  the  intruder,  who  stood 
aghast  in  the  doorway  as  he  comprehended  the 
scene. 

No  words  passed.  Staring  at  the  five  men, 
then  at  Gramont,  the  adenoidal  mechanic 
gulped  once — and  like  a  flash  acted.  He 
ducked  low,  and  fired  from  his  pocket.  Gra- 
mont fired  at  the  same  instant,  and  the  heavy 
bullet,  catching  Charlie  the  Goog  squarely  in 
the  chest,  hurled  his  body  half  across  the 
room. 

With  the  shots  Memphis  Izzy  flung  himself 
forward  in  a  headlong  rush.  That  desperate 
shot  of  the  little  mechanic  had  broken  Gra- 
mont 's  right  arm  above  the  wrist;  before  he 
could  fire  a  second  time,  with  the  weapon 
in  his  left  hand,  Gumberts  had  wrested  the 
pistol  aside  and  was  struggling  with  him. 
The  other  four  came  into  the  melee  full 
weight. 

Gramont  went  down  under  a  crashing  blow. 
Over  him  leaped  Memphis  Izzy  and  rushed 
into  the  doorway — then  stopped  with  astound- 
ing abruptness  and  lifted  his  arms.  After 


CHACHERRE'S  BUNDLE        277 

him  the  other  four  followed  suit.  Two  men, 
panting  a  little,  stood  outside  the  door  and 
covered  them  with  shotguns. 

"Back  up,"  they  ordered,  curtly.  Memphis 
Izzy  and  his  four  friends  obeyed. 

"Tie  'em,  boys,"  said  Gramont,  rising 
dizzily  to  his  feet.  "No,  I'm  not  hurt — my 
arm's  broken,  I  think,  but  let  that  wait.  Got 
the  ones  outside?" 

A  stamping  of  feet  filled  the  hall,  and  other 
men  appeared  there. 

"Got  two  of  'em,  Gramont!"  responded  the 
leader.  "The  third  slipped  in  here — ah,  there 
he  is!" 

Poor  Charlie  the  Goog  lay  dead  on  the  floor 
— a  touch  of  heroic  tragedy  in  his  last  desper- 
ate action;  the  one  great  action  of  his  life,  pos- 
sibly. He  had  realized  that  it  meant  doom 
yet  he  had  done  what  he  could. 

"I  think  that's  all,"  said  Gramont.  "We've 
sure  made  a  killing,  boys — and  it's  a  good 
thing  you  jumped  in  to  the  minute !  A  second 
later  and  they'd  have  done  for  me.  Take  care 
of  that  evidence,  will  you?  Get  that  mail  sack 
and  the  letters  particularly;  if  they've  been 
working  their  lottery  outside  the  state,  it'll  be 
a  Federal  matter." 


CHAPTER  XV 

When  the  Heavens  Fall 

fTT^HE  chief  of  police  entered  the  office  of 
Jachin  Fell,  high  in  the  Maison  Blanche 

JL  building,  at  eight  o'clock  on  Friday 
evening.  Mr.  Fell  glanced  up  at  him  in  sur- 
prise. 

"Hello,  chief !    What's  up?" 

The  officer  gazed  at  him  in  some  astonish- 
ment. 

"What's  up?  Why,  I  came  around  to  see 
you,  of  course!" 

Jachin  Fell  smiled  whimsically.  "To  see 
me?  Well,  chief,  that's  good  of  you;  sit  down 
and  have  a  cigar,  eh?  What's  the  matter? 
You  look  rather  taken  aback." 

"I  am,"  said  the  other,  bluntly.  "Didn't 
you  expect  me?" 

"No,"  said  Jachin  Fell,  halting  suddenly  in 
the  act  of  reaching  for  a  cigar  and  turning  his 
keen  gaze  upon  the  chief.  "Expect  you? 
No!" 


WHEN  THE  HEAVENS  FALL    281 

"It's  darned  queer,  then!  That  chap  Gra- 
mont  called  me  up  about  ten  minutes  ago  and 
said  to  get  around  here  as  quick  as  I  could 
make  it,  that  you  wanted  to  see  me." 

"Gramont!"  Jachin  Fell  frowned.  "Where's 
Ben  Chacherre?  Haven't  you  found  him  yet?  " 

"Nary  a  sign  of  him,  chief." 

The  door  opened,  and  Henry  Gramont  ap- 
peared, his  right  hand  bandaged  and  in  a 
sling. 

"Good  evening,  gentlemen!"  he  said,  smil- 
ing. 

"Here's  Gramont  now,"  exclaimed  Fell. 
"Did  you  call  the  chief  over  here — 

"I  sure  did,"  and  Gramont  came  forward. 
"I  wanted  to  see  you  two  gentlemen  together, 
and  so  arranged  it.  Miss  Ledanois  is  to  be 
here  at  nine,  Fell?" 

The  little  man  nodded,  his  eyes  intent  upon 
Gramont.  He  noticed  the  bandaged  arm. 

"Yes.     Have  you  been  hurt?" 

"Slightly."  Gramont  brought  up  a  chair 
across  the  desk  from  Fell,  and  sat  down.  He 
put  his  left  hand  in  his  breast  pocket,  and 
brought  forth  a  document  which  he  handed  to 
the  chief  of  police.  "  Cast  your  eye  over  that, 
chief,  and  say  nothing.  You're  here  to  listen 


284   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

"My  heavens!"  said  Fell,  staring.  "I 
never  dreamed  that  Chacherre " 

"Perhaps  you  didn't."  Gramont  shrugged 
his  shoulders.  "Neither  did  any  one  else.  I 
imagine  that  Ben  learned  of  this  room  and 
drinking  party,  and  rightly  decided  that  he 
could  make  a  rich  haul  off  a  small  crowd  of 
drunken  young  sports.  He  had  the  costume 
stolen  from  my  car,  as  you  know,  also  the  auto- 
matic which  went  with  it.  Two  shots  were 
missing  from  the  automatic  when  we  found  it 
in  Ben's  possession;  and  you  remember  the 
Masquer  fired  twice  at  the  time  Maillard  was 
killed." 

"Ah!  I  always  said  young  Maillard  wasn't 
guilty!"  exclaimed  the  chief. 

"And  your  man  Hammond "  began  Fell. 

Gramont  interposed. 

"You  thought  you  had  Hammond  sewed  up 
tight,  didn't  you?  To  use  the  language  of 
your  favourite  game,  Fell,  development  is  every- 
thing, and  the  player  who  gives  up  a  pawn  for 
the  sake  of  development  shows  that  he  is 
possessed  of  the  idee  grande.  You  took  the 
pawn,  or  thought  you  did — but  I've  taken 
the  game! 

"In  one  way,  Fell,  I'm  very  sorry  to  arrest 


WHEN  THE  HEAVENS  FALL    285 

you.  It's  going  to  hurt  a  mutual  friend  of 
ours.  I  realize  that  you've  been  trying  very 
hard  to  be  unselfish  toward  her,  and  I  think 
that  you've  been  perfectly  sincere  in  this  re- 
spect. Nonetheless,  I've  only  one  duty  in 
the  matter,  and  I  propose  to  carry  it  through 
to  the  finish." 

Fell's  keen  eyes  sparkled  angrily. 

"  You're  a  very  zealous  citizen,  young  man," 
he  said,  softly.  "I  see  that  you've  been  hurt. 
I  trust  your  little  game  did  not  result  in  casual- 
ties?" 

Gramont  nodded.  "  Charlie  the  Goog  went 
west.  He  was  desperate,  I  fancy ;  at  all  events 
he  got  me  in  the  arm,  and  I  had  to  shoot  him. 
Memphis  Izzy  hardly  justified  his  tremendous 
reputation,  for  he  yielded  like  a  lamb." 

"So  you  killed  the  Goog,  eh?"  said  Fell. 
"  Very  zealous,  Mr.  Gramont !  And  I  suppose 
that  the  exigencies  of  the  case  justified  you,  a 
private  citizen,  in  carrying  arms  and  using 
them?  Who  aided  you  in  this  marvellous 
affair?" 

"A  number  of  friends  from  my  post  of  the 
American  Legion,"  said  Gramont,  evenly. 

"Ah!  This  organization  is  going  in  for 
politics,  then?" 


286   THE  MARD1  GRAS  MYSTERY 

"Not  for  politics,  Fell;  for  justice.  I  depu- 
tized them  to  assist  me." 

"Deputized!"  repeated  Fell,  slowly. 

"Certainly."  Gramont  smiled.  "You  see, 
this  lottery  business  has  been  going  on  for 
a  year  or  more.  Some  time  ago,  before  I  came 
to  New  Orleans,  the  governor  of  this  state  ap- 
pointed me  a  special  officer  to  investigate  the 
matter.  There  is  my  commission,  which  the 
chief  has  been  reading.  It  gives  me  a  good 
deal  of  power,  Fell;  quite  enough  power  to 
gather  in  you  and  your  bunch. 

"I  might  add  that  I  have  secured  an  abun- 
dance of  evidence  to  prove  that  the  lottery 
gang,  under  your  supervision,  has  extended  its 
operations  to  adjacent  states.  This,  as  you 
are  aware,  brings  the  affair  into  Federal  hands 
if  necessary." 

The  chief  of  police  looked  very  uneasily  from 
Gramont  to  Jachin  Fell,  and  back  again.  Fell 
sat  erect  in  his  chair,  staring  at  Gramont. 

"You  were  the  original  Midnight  Masquer," 
said  Fell  in  his  toneless  voice.  At  this  direct 
charge,  and  at  Gramont 's  assent,  the  chief 
started  in  surprise. 

"Yes.  One  reason  was  that  I  suspected 
someone  in  society,  someone  high  up  in  New 


WHEN  THE  HEAVENS  FALL    287 

Orleans,  to  be  connected  with  the  gang;  but  I 
never  dreamed  that  you  were  the  man,  Fell. 
I  rather  suspected  young  Maillard.  I  am  now 
glad  to  say  that  I  was  entirely  wrong.  You 
were  the  big  boss,  Fell,  and  you're  going  to 
serve  tune  for  it." 

Fell  glanced  at  the  chief,  who  cleared  his 
throat  as  if  about  to  speak.  At  this  moment, 
however,  a  sharp  knock  sounded  at  the  door. 

"Come!"  called  Gramont. 

A  man  entered.  It  was  one  of  Gramont 's 
deputies,  who  happened  also  to  be  a  reporter 
from  one  of  the  morning  papers  of  the  city. 
He  carried  several  sheets  of  paper  which  he 
laid  before  Gramont.  He  glanced  at  Fell,  who 
recognized  him  and  exchanged  a  nod  of  greet- 
ing, then  returned  his  attention  to  Gramont. 

"  Ah ! "  said  the  latter  with  satisfaction,  as  he 
examined  the  papers.  "So  Hearne  has  given 
up  everything,  has  he?  Does  this  confession 
implicate  Mr.  Fell,  here?" 

"Well,  rather,  "drawled  the  other,  cheerfully . 
"  And  see  here,  cap !  There  are  two  more  of  us 
in  the  crowd  and  we've  arranged  to  split  the 
story.  We'd  like  to  rush  the  stuff  to  our  papers 
the  minute  you  give  the  word,  because " 

"I  know."     Gramont  returned  the  papers 


288   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

that  bore  the  confession  of  Hearne.  "  You've 
made  copies  of  this,  of  course?  All  right. 
Shoot  the  stuff  in  to  your  papers  right  away, 
if  you  wish." 

Fell  raised  a  hand  to  check  the  other. 

"One  moment,  please!"  he  said,  his  eyes 
boring  into  the  newspaper  man.  "Will  you 
also  take  a  message  from  me  to  the  editor  of 
your  newspaper — and  see  that  it  goes  to  the 
others  as  well?" 

"If  Mr.  Gramont  permits,  yes." 

"Go  ahead,"  said  Gramont,  wondering  what 
Fell  would  try  now.  He  soon  learned. 

"Then,"  pursued  Fell,  evenly,  "you  will 
kindly  inform  the  editors  of  your  papers  that, 
in  case  my  name  appears  in  connection  with 
this  matter,  I  shall  immediately  institute  suit 
for  libel.  No  matter  what  Mr.  Gramont  may 
say  or  do,  I  assure  you  fully  that  no  publicity 
is  going  to  attach  to  me  in  this  matter. 
Neither,  I  may  add,  am  I  going  to  be  arrested. 
That  is  all,  sir." 

Gramont  smiled.  "Take  the  message  if 
you  see  fit,  by  all  means,"  he  said,  carelessly. 
"You  may  also  take  my  fullest  assurance  that 
within  twenty  minutes  you  will  observe  Mr. 
Fell  safely  in  jail.  That's  all." 


WHEN  THE  HEAVENS  FALL    289 

The  newspaper  man  saluted  and  departed, 
grinning. 

Gramont  leaned  forward,  the  harsh  lines  of 
his  face  spelling  determination  as  he  looked  at 
Jachin  Fell. 

"So  you  won't  be  arrested,  eh?  Let's  see. 
I  know  that  this  gang  of  yours  has  influence 
running  up  into  high  places,  and  that  this 
influence  has  power.  The  governor  knows  it 
also.  That  is  why  I  was  appointed  to  investi- 
gate this  lottery  game  secretly,  and  in  my  own 
way.  That  is  why,  also,  I  brought  the  chief 
of  police  here  to-night." 

He  turned  to  the  perturbed  officer,  and  spoke 
coldly. 

"Now,  chief,  you've  seen  my  authority, 
you've  heard  my  charges,  and  you  know  they 
will  be  proved  up  to  the  hilt.  Dick  Hearne 
gave  up  the  names  of  most  of  the  lottery  gang 
and  their  confederates;  my  deputies  already 
wired  to  their  various  places  of  operation  for 
the  purpose  of  securing  their  arrest.  We'll 
make  a  clean  sweep. 

"The  same  may  be  said  of  the  automobile 
gang,  although  we  will  probably  miss  a  few  of 
the  smaller  fry.  What  other  forms  of  crim- 
inality the  organization  may  be  engaged  in 


290   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

I  can't  say  at  this  moment ;  but  we  have  se- 
cured quite  enough  evidence.  Are  you  willing 
to  arrest  Jachin  Fell,  or  not?" 

The  chief  cleared  his  throat. 

"Why,  Mr.  Gramont,"  he  observed,  ner- 
vously, "  about  the  rest  of  the  gang,  we'll  take 
care  of  'em,  sure!  But  it's  different  with  Mr. 
Fell  here.  He's  a  friend  of  the  senator " 

"  Different,  hell ! "  snapped  Gramont,  angrily. 
"He's  a  criminal,  no  matter  who  his  friends 
may  be,  and  I  have  the  proof  of  it!" 

"Well,  that  may  be  so,"  admitted  the  chief 
of  police.  "But  this  thing  is  goin'  to  raise 
one  hell  of  a  scandal,  all  up  and  down  the  state! 
You  know  that  as  well  as  I  do.  Now,  if  I  was 
you,  I'd  act  kind  of  slow — 

Gramont  smiled  bitterly. 

"Perhaps  you  would,  chief.  In  fact,  I  don't 
doubt  that  you  would.  But  you  are  not  me. 
Now,  as  a  duly-appointed  officer  acting  under 
authority  of  the  governor  of  the  state,  I  call 
upon  you  to  arrest  this  criminal,  and  I  make 
you  duly  responsible  for  his  safe-keeping.  Do 
you  dare  refuse?" 

The  chief  hesitated.  He  looked  at  Fell  for 
help,  but  none  came.  Fell  seemed  to  be  rather 
amused  by  the  situation. 


WHEN  THE  HEAVENS  FALL    291 

"Well,"  said  the  chief,  "I  ain't  seen  the 
evidence  yet " 

"I'll  show  you  some  evidence  of  another 
kind,  chief,"  said  Gramont,  sternly  quiet. 
"Outside  the  door,  here,  there  are  two  men 
who  will  obey  my  orders  and  my  authority. 
If  you  dare  refuse  to  do  your  duty  you  will 
yourself  be  taken  from  this  room  under  arrest, 
on  a  John  Doe  warrant  which  is  already  pre- 
pared and  waiting;  and  you  will  be  charged 
with  being  an  accomplice  of  this  gang.  Now 
choose,  and  choose  quickly!" 

Gramont  leaned  back  in  his  chair.  The  pur- 
pling features  of  the  chief  were  streaming  with 
perspiration;  the  man  was  in  a  frightful  di- 
lemma, and  his  plight  was  pitiable.  At  this 
instant  Jachin  Fell  interposed. 

"Let  me  speak,  please,"  he  said,  gently. 
"My  dear  Mr.  Gramont,  it  has  just  occurred 
to  me  that  there  may  be  a  compromise — 

"I'm  not  compromising,"  snapped  Gra- 
mont. 

" Certainly  not;  I  speak  of  our  mutual  friend 
here,"  and  Fell  indicated  the  chief  with  a 
bland  gesture.  "  I  believe  that  Judge  Forester 
of  this  city  is  at  present  consulting  with  the 
governor  at  Baton  Rouge  on  political  matters. 


292   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

With  them,  also,  is  Senator  Flaxman,  who 
has  come  from  Washington  on  the  same  errand. 
Now,  it  would  be  a  very  simple  matter  to  end 
all  this  anxiety.  Suppose  that  you  call  up  the 
governor  on  long  distance,  from  this  telephone, 
and  get  his  assurance  that  I  am  not  be  arrested. 
Then  you'll  be  convinced." 

Gramont  laughed  with  'deep  anger. 

"You  gangsters  are  all  alike!"  he  said,  turn- 
ing to  the  desk  telephone.  "You  think  that 
because  you  have  planted  your  slimy  tentacles 
in  high  places  you  can  do  anything  with  abso- 
lute impunity.  But  the  governor  of  this  state 
is  not  in  your  clutches. 

"  He's  a  man,  by  heaven !  I  have  his  assur- 
ance that  he'll  prosecute  to  the  limit  whoever 
is  behind  this  criminal  gang — and  he  keeps  his 
word!  Don't  think  that  if  your  friend  the 
senator  is  with  him,  you  will  be  saved.  I'll  call 
him,  if  only  to  show  the  chief,  here,  that  in- 
fluence is  not  going  to  count  in  this  game." 

Gramont  took  down  the  receiver,  called  long 
distance,  and  put  in  a  hurried  call  for  the 
executive  mansion,  asking  for  the  governor  in 
person. 

"So  you  think  that  he's  immune  from  influ- 
ence, do  you?"  Jachin  Fell  smiled  patroniz- 


WHEN  THE  HEAVENS  FALL    293 

ingly  and  lighted  a  fresh  cigar.  The  chief  of 
police  was  mopping  his  brow. 

"My  dear  Gramont,  you  exhibit  a  youthful 
confidence  in  human  nature!  Let  me  topple 
your  clay-footed  idol  from  its  pedestal  in  a 
hurry.  Mention  to  the  governor  that  you 
have  me  under  arrest,  and  that  I  have  asked 
him  to  speak  with  Judge  Forester  and  Senator 
Flaxman  before  confirming  the  arrest.  I'll 
wager  you  five  hundred  dollars — 

The  smile  in  Fell's  pale  eyes  drove  Gramont 
into  a  cold  fury  of  rage. 

"You  devil!  So  your  damnable  influence 
goes  as  far  as  those  two  men,  does  it — those 
men  who  are  respected  above  all  others  in  this 
city?  By  the  lord,  I'll  call  your  bluff!  I  know 
the  governor,  and  I  know  he  doesn't  give  a 
damn  for  all  the  dirty  crooks  and  slimy  politi- 
cians on  earth!" 

"What  sublime  faith!"  laughed  Fell,  softly. 

The  telephone  rang  sharply.  Taunted  al- 
most beyond  endurance,  Gramont  seized  the 
instrument  and  made  answer.  In  a  moment 
he  had  the  governor  on  the  wire.  His  gaze 
went  exultantly  to  Fell. 

"Governor,  this  is  Henry  Gramont  speak- 
ing," he  said.  "I've  just  succeeded  in  my 


294   THE  MARD1  GRAS  MYSTERY 

work,  as  I  wired  you  this  afternoon — no,  hold 
on  a  minute!  This  is  important. 

"The  head  of  the  entire  gang  is  a  man  here 
in  New  Orleans  by  the  name  of  Jachin  Fell. 
Yes,  Fell.  I  find  it  very  hard  to  get  him  ar- 
rested. Fell  boasts  that  his  influence  is  su- 
perior to  any  that  I  can  bring  to  bear.  He 
asks  that  you  speak  with  Judge  Forester  and 
Senator  Flaxman  before  confirming  the  arrest, 
and  boasts  that  you  will  order  me  to  keep  hands 
off. 

"Speak  with  them,  governor!  If  they're  in 
the  gang,  too,  don't  you  worry.  You  confirm 
this  arrest,  and  I'll  put  Fell  behind  the  bars  if 
I  have  to  turn  all  New  Orleans  inside  out. 
Go  ahead !  I  know  that  you  can't  be  reached 
by  any  of  these  crooks — I'm  merely  calling 
Fell's  bluff.  We  have  the  chief  of  police  here, 
and  he's  sweating.  Eh?  Sure.  Take  as  long 
as  you  like,  governor." 

He  smiled  grimly  at  Jachin  Fell  as  he 
waited.  Two  minutes  passed — three — four. 
Then  he  heard  the  voice  of  the  governor  again. 

"Yes?" 

"Don't  arrest  him,  Gramont." 

"What?"  Gramont  gasped. 

"Don't  touch  him,  I  said!     Get  in  all  the 


WHEN  THE  HEAVENS  FALL    295 

others,  no  matter  who  they  are,  but  leave  Fell 
alone 

"You  damned  coward!"  shouted  Gramont, 
in  a  heat  of  fury.  "  So  this  is  the  way  you  keep 
your  promises,  is  it?  And  I  thought  you  were 
above  all  influences — real  American!  You're 
a  hell  of  a  governor — oh,  I  don't  want  to  hear 
any  more  from  you." 

He  jerked  up  the  receiver. 

There  was  a  moment  of  dead  silence  in  the 
room.  The  chief  mopped  his  brow,  in  evident 
relief.  Jachin  Fell  sat  back  in  his  chair  and 
scrutinized  Gramont  with  his  thin-lipped  smile. 

Gramont  sat  helpless,  wrung  by  chagrin, 
rage,  and  impotency.  There  was  nothing  he 
could  say,  nothing  he  could  do.  The  man 
behind  him  had  failed  him.  The  entire  power 
of  the  state,  which  had  been  behind  him,  had 
failed  him.  There  was  no  higher  power  to 
which  he  could  appeal,  except  the  power  of  the 
Federal  Government.  His  head  jerked  up 
sharply. 

"Fell,  I've  got  the  evidence  on  you,  and  I've 
got  the  evidence  to  put  this  lottery  business 
into  Federal  hands.  Boys!  Come  in  here!" 

At  his  shout  the  door  opened  and  two  of  his 
men  entered.  Gramont  looked  at  the  chief. 


296   THE  MARD1  GRAS  MYSTERY 

"You're  willing  to  take  care  of  all  the  rest 
of  the  gang,  chief?" 

"Sure,"  assented  the  officer,  promptly. 

"All  right.  Boys,  turn  over  the  whole 
crowd  to  the  chief,  and  I'll  trust  you  to  see 
that  they're  properly  booked  and  jailed.  Turn 
over  all  the  evidence  likewise,  except  that 
mail  sack.  Have  that  brought  up  here,  to 
this  room,  and  see  that  the  corridor  outside  is 
kept  guarded.  Get  me?" 

The  two  saluted.     "Yes,  sir." 

"Good.  Send*  to  the  Federal  building,  find 
out  where  there's  an  agent  of  the  Department 
of  Justice,  and  get  him  here.  Have  him  here 
inside  of  fifteen  minutes." 

Fell  sjniled.  "I  can  save  you  time,  gentle- 
men. The  agent  in  charge  of  this  district 
will  probably  be  home  at  this  hour.  I  can 
give  you  his  address 

He  did  so.  In  the  pale  eyes  Gramont  read 
an  imperturbable  challenge.  The  effrontery 
of  the  man  appalled  him.  He  turned  to  his 
men. 

"Confirm  fully  that  he  is  the  agent  before 
you  get  him,"  he  ordered,  curtly.  "Have  him 
bring  one  of  his  deputy  agents  likewise,  to 
meet  you  here.  That's  all,  chief,  if  you'll  go 


WHEN  THE  HEAVENS  FALL    297 

along  with  these  men,  you'll  be  put  in  charge 
of  our  prisoners  and  evidence.  I've  left  a 
guard  at  the  Gumberts  place  at  Terrebonne, 
and  I'd  suggest  that  you  go  through  the  resi- 
dence of  Gumberts  here  in  town.  You  might 
find  evidence.  That's  all." 

The  chief  departed  without  a  word.  It  was 
obvious  that  he  was  mighty  glad  to  be  gone. 
Gramont  and  Fell  were  left  alone  together. 

"My  dear  Gramont,  your  devotion  to 
duty  is  Roman  in  spirit,"  said  Jachin  Fell, 
lightly.  "I  really  regret  that  circumstances 
so  conspire  to  defeat  you!  Why  can't  you 
be  satisfied  with  bagging  so  many  other 
victims?  You  can't  bag  me — 

"Can't  I?"  said  Gramont,  taking  a  cigar 
and  biting  at  it.  He  was  cooler  now.  "By 
heavens,  Fell,  there's  one  thing  in  this  country 
that  you  and  no  other  man  can  reach  with  any 
influence,  political  bribery,  or  crooked  con- 
nections— and  that's  the  Government  of  the 
United  States!  You  can  reach  judges  and 
senators  and  governors,  but  you  can't  reach 
the  unknown  and  humble  men  who  carry  the 
badge  of  the  Department  of  Justice!" 

Fell  made  a  slight  gesture. 

"Human  nature,  my  dear  Gramont.     It  is 


298   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

quite  true  that  I  have  not  established  this 
gang  of  criminals,  as  you  call  them,  without 
taking  proper  precautions.  Memphis  Izzy, 
for  instance,  has  influence  that  reaches  far 
and  wide.  So  have  I.  So  have  others  in  the 
party.  I  give  you  my  assurance  that  your 
Department  of  Justice  man  will  not  arrest 
me." 

Gramont  paled. 

"If "  He  choked  on  the  word,  then 

touched  the  automatic  on  the  desk  before 
him.  "If  he  won't,  Jachin  Fell,  I'll  put  a 
bullet  through  you  myself!" 

For  the  first  time  the  pale  eyes  of  Jachin 
Fell  looked  slightly  troubled. 

"You'll  hang  if  you  do,"  he  said,  gently. 

"I'll  be  damned  if  I  don't!"  snapped 
Gramont,  and  put  the  weapon  in  his  lap. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

The  Impregnability  of  Mr.  Fett 

JACHIN  FELL  glanced  at  his  watch. 
"Lucie  will   be  here  at  any  minute 
now,"   he   observed.     "I  suppose  your 
sense  of  duty  will  force  you  to  disclose  every- 
thing to  her?" 

Gramont  merely  nodded,  tight-lipped.  A 
knock  at  the  door,  and  one  of  his  men  entered 
with  the  sack  of  mail  they  had  taken  as  evi- 
dence. 

"A  lady  is  coming  here  at  any  moment," 
said  Gramont.  "Allow  her  to  enter." 

The  other  saluted  and  departed. 

"A  sense  of  duty  is  a  terrible  thing,"  and 
Jachin  Fell  sighed.  "What  about  the  oil 
company?  Are  you  going  to  let  Miss  Le- 
danois'  fortunes  go  to  wrack  and  rum?" 

"Better  that,"  said  Gramont,  "than  to 
have  her  profit  come  through  criminal  money 
and  means.  She'd  be  the  first  to  say  so, 
herself.  But  I'll  tell  you  this:  I'm  con- 


300   THE  MARD1  GRAS  MYSTERY 

vinced  that  there  is  oil  under  the  land  of 
hers!  If  she'll  agree,  I'll  put  up  what  money 
I  have  against  her  land;  we'll  be  able  to  have 
one  well  drilled  at  least,  on  the  chance!" 

"If  it's  dry,"  said  Fell,  "you'll  be  broke." 

"I  can  always  get  work,"  and  Gramont 
laughed  harshly. 

Fell  regarded  him  in  silence  a  moment. 
Then:  "I  think  Lucie  loves  you,  Gramont." 

A  trembling  seized  Gramont;  a  furious 
impulse  to  shoot  the  man  down  as  he  sat. 
Did  he  have  the  baseness  to  try  and  save 
himself  through  Lucie?  Something  of  his 
stifled  anger  must  have  shone  in  his  eyes,  for 
Jachin  Fell  laid  down  his  cigar  and  continued 
quickly: 

"Don't  misunderstand.  I  say  that  I  think 
she  cares  for  you;  it  is  merely  surmise  on  my 
part.  Lucie  is  one  person  for  whom  I'd  do 
anything.  I  stand  and  have  stood  in  the 
place  of  a  parent  to  her.  She  is  very  dear  to 
me.  I  have  a  special  reason  for  intruding  on 
your  personal  affairs  in  this  manner,  and 
some  right  to  ask  you  in  regard  to  your 
intentions." 

"I  don't  recognize  any  right  whatever  on 
your  part,"  said  Gramont,  steadily. 


IMPREGNABILITY  OF  MR.  FELL  301 

Fell  smiled.  "Ah!  Then  you  are  in  love. 
Well,  youth  must  be  served!" 

"I'd  like  to  know  one  thing,"  struck  in 
Gramont.  "That  is,  why  you  were  so  cursed 
anxious  to  get  something  on  my  man  Ham- 
mond! And  why  you  held  the  Midnight 
Masquer  affair  over  me  as  a  threat.  Did  you 
suspect  my  business?" 

Fell  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed  in 
a  hearty  amusement  that  was  quite  unre- 
strained. 

"That,"  he  responded,  "is  really  humor- 
ous! Do  you  know,  I  honestly  thought 
you  a  fortune-hunter  from  Europe?  When 
I  suspected  you  of  being  the  Midnight 
Masquer,  and  afterward,  I  was  convinced 
that  you,  and  very  likely  Hammond  as  well, 
were  very  clever  swindlers  of  some  kind. 
There,  I  confess,  I  made  a  grave  error.  My 
friend  Gumberts  never  forgets  faces,  and  he 
said  to  me,  one  day,  that  Hammond's  face 
was  vaguely  familiar  to  him,  but  he  could  not 
place  the  man.  That  led  me  to  think — 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  Gramont.  "Gumberts 
saw  Hammond  years  ago,  when  he  was 
escaping  from  the  law — and  to  think  he  re- 
membered! Hammond  told  me  about  it." 


302   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

"That's  why  I  wanted  you  and  Hammond 
in  my  gang,"  said  Fell.  "I  thought  it  would 
be  very  well  to  get  you  into  the  organization 
for  my  own  purposes." 

"Thanks,"  answered  Gramont,  drily.  "I 
got  in,  didn't  I?" 

Without  a  knock  the  door  opened  and 
Lucie  Ledanois  entered. 

"Good  evening,  stockholders!"  she  ex- 
claimed. "Do  you  know  there's  a  crowd 
down  in  the  street — policemen  and  automo- 
biles and  a  lot  of  excitement?" 

"Allow  me,"  said  Gramont,  taking  her 
coat  and  placing  a  chair  for  her.  "Oh,  yes, 
we've  had  quite  a  strenuous  evening,  Miss 
Ledanois." 

"Your  hand!     Why,  what  has  happened?" 

"One  of  Mr.  Fell's  friends  tried  to  shoot 
me.  Will  you  sit  down,  please?  You  re- 
member that  I  warned  you  regarding  a 
shock  that  would  come;  and  now  I  must 
explain."  Gramont  gravely  handed  her  his 
commission  from  the  governor,  and  resumed 
his  seat.  "When  I  say  that  I  have  come 
here,  not  to  attend  a  meeting  of  our  oil 
company,  but  to  arrest  Mr.  Fell,  you  will 
understand.  I  am  very  sorry,  Lucie,  to 


IMPREGNABILITY  OF  MR.  FELL  303 

have  to  tell  you  all  this,  for  I  know  your 
attachment  to  him." 

"Arrest— you,  Uncle  Jachin?"  The  girl 
glanced  from  the  paper  to  Fell,  who  nodded. 
"And  you,  Henry — a  special  officer  of  the 
governor's?  Why — this  isn't  a  joke  of  some 
kind?" 

"None  whatever,  my  dear,"  said  Fell, 
quietly.  "Mr.  Gramont  is  to  be  con- 
gratulated. He  has  discovered  that  I  was 
the  head  of  a  large  organization  of  criminals. 
He  has  there,  under  the  table,  a  sack  of  mail 
which  proves  that  my  organization  was  con- 
ducting a  lottery  throughout  several  states; 
we  are  now  expecting  the  arrival  of  Federal 
agents,  to  whom  Gramont  intends  to  turn 
me  over  as  a  prisoner." 

"Oh!"  The  girl  stared  at  him,  wide- 
eyed.  Her  voice  broke.  "It — it  can't  be 
true- 

"It  is  quite  true,  my  dear,"  and  Jachin 
Fell  smiled.  "But  don't  let  it  distress  you  hi 
the  least,  I  beg.  Here,  if  I  mistake  not,  are 
your  Department  of  Justice  friends,  Gra- 
mont." 

A  knock  at  the  door,  and  it  opened  to  ad- 
mit one  of  Gramont's  men. 


304   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

"Here  they  are,  sir — the  chief  agent  and  a 
deputy.  Shall  I  let  them  in?" 

Gramont  nodded.  Two  men  entered  the 
room,  and  Gramont  dismissed  his  own  man 
with  a  gesture.  He  saw  that  the  agents 
both  nodded  to  Fell. 

"Do  you  gentlemen  know  this  man?"  he 
demanded,  rising. 

"Yes,"  said  one  of  them,  regarding  him 
keenly.  "Who  sent  for  us?" 

"I  did."  Gramont  gave  his  name,  and 
handed  them  his  commission.  "I  have  been 
investigating  a  lottery  which  has  been  con- 
ducted in  this  state  for  a  long  time  by  an 
organization  of  very  clever  criminals.  Jachin 
Fell  is  the  man  at  the  head  of  this  organiza- 
tion. To-day  I  rounded  up  the  entire  gang, 
and  procured  all  the  evidence  necessary. 
Under  that  table  is  a  sack  of  mail  proving 
that  the  lottery  has  been  extended  to  other 
states,  and  that  part  of  its  operations  have 
been  conducted  by  means  of  the  United 
States  mails. 

"The  lesser  members  of  the  gang  are  in 
custody.  The  police  department  will  not 
arrest  this  man  Fell;  his  influence  and  that  of 
his  gang  is  extensive  in  political  fields  and 


IMPREGNABILITY  OF  MR.  FELL  305 

elsewhere.  I  have  called  up  the  governor, 
and  have  been  told  not  to  arrest  him.  I  have 
disregarded  these  facts,  and  I  now  call  upon 
you  to  hold  him  in  custody  as  a  Federal 
prisoner.  He  has  boasted  to  me  that  you 
will  not  touch  him — and  if  you  don't,  there's 
going  to  be  a  shakeup  that  will  make  history ! 
Now  go  to  it." 

The  chief  agent  laid  Gramont's  commission 
on  the  table  and  looked  at  Jachin  Fell.  For 
an  instant  there  was  a  dead  silence.  Then, 
when  the  Federal  man  spoke,  Gramont  was 
paralyzed. 

"I'm  very  sorry,  Mr.  Gramont,  to  have  to 

"What!"  cried  Gramont,  incredulously. 
"Do  you  dare  stand  there  and 

"One  moment  please,"  said  Fell,  his  quiet 
voice  breaking  in.  "It  is  quite  true  that  I 
have  organized  all  the  criminals  possible, 
Mr.  Gramont,  and  have  put  the  underground 
lottery  into  a  systematized  form.  I  have 
done  this  by  the  authority  of  the  United 
States,  in  order  to  apprehend  Memphis  Izzy 
Gumberts  and  other  men  at  one  crack. 
These  gentlemen  will  tell  you  that  I  am  a 
special  agent  of  the  Department  of  Justice, 


306   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

employed  in  that  capacity  through  the  efforts 
of  Judge  Forester  and  Senator  Flaxman.  I 
regret  that  this  had  to  be  held  so  secret  that 
not  even  the  governor  himself  was  aware 
of  it  until  this  evening.  The  conflict  was 
quite  unavoidable.  Not  a  member  of  that 
gang  must  become  aware  of  my  real  iden- 
tity." 

Fell  turned  to  the  two  agents,  who  were 
smiling. 

"I  would  suggest  that  you  take  this  sack 
of  mail,  and  arrange  with  the  chief  of  police 
in  regard  to  the  prisoners,"  he  said. 
"The  chief,  of  course,  must  suspect  noth- 
ing." 

Gramont  sank  into  his  chair,  the  automatic 
dropping  from  his  hand.  He  was  suddenly 
dazed,  thunderstruck.  Yet  he  had  to  believe. 
He  was  dimly  aware  that  Lucie  had  gone  to 
Jachin  Fell,  her  arms  about  his  neck.  He 
stared  from  unseeing  eyes. 

Realization  smote  him  like  a  blow,  numb- 
ing his  brain.  He  saw  now  why  the  governor 
had  conferred  with  Judge  Forester  and  the 
senator,  why  he  had  been  ordered  off  the 
trail.  He  saw  now  why  Fell  had  preserved 
secrecy  so  great  that  even  to  the  chief  of 


IMPREGNABILITY  OF  MR.  FELL  307 

police  his  impregnable  position  was  supposedly 
due  to  influence  higher  up. 

He  saw  how  Fell  must  have  been  working 
month  after  month,  silently  and  terribly,  to 
form  one  compact  organization  of  the  most 
talented  criminals  within  reach — headed  by 
Memphis  Izzy,  the  man  who  had  laughed  at 
the  government  for  years!  And  he  saw  him- 
self, furious,  raging  like  a  madman— 

Gramont  dropped  his  head  into  his  hands. 
The  pain  of  his  forgotten  wounded  arm 
stabbed  him  like  a  knife.  He  jerked  his  head 
sharply  up,  and  was  aware  that  the  agents 
had  departed.  He  was  alone  with  Lucie  and 
Fell,  and  the  latter  was  rising  and  holding 
out  his  hand,  smiling. 

"Gramont,  you  got  ahead  of  me  in  this 
deal,  and  I  congratulate  you  with  all  my 
heart!"  said  Fell,  earnestly.  "Neither  of  us 
suspected  the  part  played  by  the  other  man; 
but  you've  done  the  work  and  done  it  well. 
Will  you  shake  hands?" 

Gramont  confusedly  took  the  hand  ex- 
tended to  him. 

"I've  been  a  fool,"  he  said,  slowly.  "I 
might  have  guessed  that  something  unusual 
was " 


308   THE  MARDI  GRAS  MYSTERY 

"No;  how  could  you  guess?"  said  Fell. 
"There  are  three  men  in  Baton  Rouge  who 
know  the  truth,  and  three  persons  in  this 
room.  That's  all,  outside  of  the  regular 
government  men.  I  had  not  told  even  Lucie, 
here!  I  dared  not.  And  I  dare  say  noth- 
ing .  even  now.  To  the  underworld  at  large 
I  will  be  known  as  the  crook  whom  not 
even  the  government  could  touch;  in  days 
to  come  I  may  be  of  untold  service  to  my 
country." 

"I'm  so  glad!"  Lucie  took  Gramont's 
hand  as  Jachin  Fell  dropped  it,  and  Gramont 
looked  down  to  meet  her  brimming  eyes. 
"For  a  moment  I  thought  that  all  the  world 
had  gone  mad — but  now 

Jachin  Fell  regarded  them  for  an  instant, 
then  he  quietly  went  to  the  door. 

"If  you  will  excuse  me  one  moment,"  he 
said,  "I  shall  speak  with  your  men  who  are 
on  guard,  Gramont.  I — ah — I  will  be  back 
in  a  moment,  as  Eliza  said  when  she  crossed 
the  ice;  and  we  may  then  discuss  business. 
If  you  agree,  I  think  that  your  company 
may  proceed  upon  the  original  lines,  and 
we  shall  set  to  work  drilling  for  oil  without 
delay " 


IMPREGNABILITY  OF  MR.  FELL  309 

Gramont  scarcely  heard  the  words,  nor  did 
he  hear  the  door  close.  He  was  still  looking 
into  the  eyes  of  Lucie  Ledanois,  and  wonder- 
ing if  the  message  they  held  were  really 
meant  for  him. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

Mi-Careme 

A  NAMELESS    gentleman    from    the 
effete  North  was  enjoying  for  the  first 
time  the  privileges  of  a  guest  card  at 
the  Chess  and  Checkers.     In  a  somewhat  per- 
plexed manner  he  approached  the  secretary's 
desk  and  obtained  a  cigar.     Then  he  paused, 
listening    to    the    sounds    of    revelry    which 
filled  the  club,  and  which  came  roaring  in 
from  the  city  streets  outside. 

"Say!"  he  addressed  the  secretary. 
"What's  this  Mi-Car6me  I've  been  reading 
about  in  the  papers,  anyhow?  I  thought 
everything  was  tight  as  a  clam  down  here 
after  Mardi  Gras !  It's  still  the  Lenten  season, 
isn't  it?  Mardi  Gras  doesn't  come  more  than 
once  a  year?  Then  what's  all  the  celebration 
about?" 

The  secretary  smiled. 

"Certainly,   sir,   it's   still   Lent.     But   the 
French    people    have    what    they    call    Mi- 
sio 


MI-CAREME  311 

Careme,  or  Mid-Lent,  and  they  certainly 
give  it  a  big  celebration!  You  see,  it's  a 
night  halfway  through  Lent,  when  they  can 
enjoy  themselves  to  the  limit — let  off  steam, 
as  it  were.  We're  having  several  dinner 
parties  here  in  the  club  to-night,  for  the 
occasion." 

A  slightly  built  little  man,  who  had  much 
the  air  of  a  shy  clerk — had  it  not  been  for  his 
evening  attire — approached  the  desk.  He 
signed  a  check  for  a  handful  of  cigars,  which 
he  stowed  away. 

"Please  provide  a  fresh  box  of  the  El  Keys 
later,"  he  said  to  the  secretary.  "Most  of 
my  party  is  here,  I  believe." 

"I'll  send  them  up,  Mr.  Fell,"  answered 
the  secretary,  quickly.  "Yes,  I  think  the 
dining  room  is  all  ready  for  you,  sir.  By 
the  way,  Mr.  Gramont  was  looking  for 
you  a  moment  ago — ah!  Here  he  comes 
now!" 

Jachin  Fell  turned.  Gramont  was  plung- 
ing at  him,  a  yellow  telegraph  form  in  his 
hand,  excitement  in  his  eyes. 

"Look  here,  Jachin!  This  wire  just  came 
in  from  Hammond — you  know,  I  left  him  in 
charge  of  things  down  at  Bayou  Terrebonne! 


312   THE  MARDl  GRAS  MYSTERY 

Read  it,  man — read  it!  They've  struck  oil- 
sands  at  five  hundred  feet — and  sands  at 
five  hundred,  with  these  indications,  mean 
a  gusher  at  a  thousand!  Where's  Lucie? 
Have  you  brought  her?" 

"She's  upstairs.  Well,  well!"  Jachin  Fell 
glanced  at  the  telegram,  and  returned  it. 
"So  oil  is  actually  found!  This  is  certainly 
going  to  be  one  big  night,  as  Eliza  said  when 
she  crossed  the  ice!  Come  along.  Let's 
find  Lucie  and  tell  her  about  it " 

The  two  men  turned  away  together. 

After  them  gazed  the  man  from  the  North, 
not  a  little  agape  over  what  he  had  chanced  to 
hear.  Before  the  wondering  questions  in  his 
eyes  the  assiduous  secretary  made  haste  to 
enlighten  him. 

"That's  Mr.  Gramont,  sir.  They  say  that 
he  used  to  be  a  real  prince,  over  in  France,  and 
that  he  threw  it  up  because  he  wanted  to  be 
an  American.  Mr.  Fell  is  having  a  dinner 
upstairs — it's  Mr.  Gramont's  engagement, 
you  know — and  the  Mi-Car£me  ball  after- 
ward  " 

"Oh,  I  know,  I  know,"  and  the  man 
from  the  North  sighed  a  little.  "I  was 
reading  all  about  that  in  the  paper.  Fell 


MI-CAREME  313 

is  one  of  the  crack  chess  players  here,  isn't 
he?" 

The  secretary  smiled. 

"Well,  he  plays  a  very  fair  game,  sir — a 
very  fair  game  indeed ! " 

THE  END 


THE  COUNTRY  LIFE   PRESS 
GARDEN  CITY,   N.  Y. 


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